My Life in Your Service
by Dark Empyrean
Summary: An edgy retelling of how Princess Allura and the Voltron Force continue their quest for peace on a neo-medieval Arus reminiscent of Camelot. From the start of series. K&A w/ competition from Lance & Lotor. Original cartoon and Devil's Due comics based.
1. Chapter 1: Dresses, Dresses, Everywhere

Author's note: Thank you for taking the time to read my fanfic. As it is my first one, I would love to hear any _constructive_ comments you might have.

Playlist: I wrote this chapter while listening to Neko Case's album "Middle Cyclone" and various tidbits like "Full Moon" by The Black Ghosts and "Honey Don't Think" by Grant Lee Buffalo.

Oh, and all standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc….

Chapter One:

Dresses, Dresses Everywhere, and Not a Gun to Shoot

Princess Allura found herself running down the corridor, cursing herself silently as she went. Her soft but firmly tied slippers made almost no sound at all as she dodged large chunks of fallen wall and jumped over smaller chunks of debris. She knew how important silence was at the moment; she could hear the group of soldiers getting closer behind her, catcalling and taunting as they ducked in and out of the warren of ruined rooms that were all that was left of the castle's North Tower. Thank the gods she knew this part of the castle like the back of her hand. There was still a chance to reach the hidden passageway behind the false bookshelf in her father's private study…

"Come out, pretty Princess, come out and play," they taunted, closer now. They were still moving as a group, she realized. Their footsteps indicated a group of people moving together. They had not yet separated out, she realized, breathing a silent prayer of thanks. That improved her chances…

She came to a sudden, skidding halt as she approached the door to her father's study. She had learned from bitter experience not to go rushing blindly in to any room, no matter how safe she thought it might be…

_No time, no time_, part of her mind was whispering furiously, but she ignored it. She could not afford to panic and be caught now. The group hunting her was humanoid, probably mercenaries, and not a group of Zarkon's robot soldiers. Being caught by a group of armed men would be very bad indeed. She knew what could happen to her between the time they caught her and the time they decided to deliver her to Zarkon's forces. Robots would be better. Robots were devoid of emotion, of human impulses, and desire….

Allura dropped to her belly, lying flat against the floor to peek around the edge of the open study door, and cursed again, silently. This group of mercenaries was much cleverer than the last. They _had_ separated already; the catcalling and taunting had been a distraction, an attempt to make her think they hadn't separated, when in reality, they had. She could see one of them now, wedged between a bookshelf and her father's fireplace, grasping a long black laser rifle. She recognized the basic model, but not the scope. _He must have customized it_, she thought. Handcuffs and night vision goggles hung from his belt. _I wonder if they know about the passage, or are there more of them in every room?_ She wasn't sure which scenario was more disturbing. Heart pounding in her throat, she began to back slowly away, the entire length of her body still pressed to the floor, using only her elbows to propel her.

"Princess," the largest group called again. "Don't be afraid, pretty Princess. We don't bite. Much." Their raucous laughter ricocheted off the corridor walls.

_Hide. I'm going to have to hide. Koran will know, he'll bring help…._

She crawled across the corridor to what was once her mother's room. She kept her eyes low to ground, as much out of grief at the state of her beloved mother's former sanctuary as out of strategic movement. It was clear. No mercenary lurked in the shadows, but she stayed low, still, as she headed for the closet. She hated the thought of being trapped in there if she was discovered, but it was the best and closest cover she had available at the moment. She shut the closet door firmly behind her and blinked, amazed, as always, at the reminder of better days that surrounded her.

The Queen of Arus had loved beauty and luxury, and her husband had indulged her every whim. Allura could still picture her mother, surrounded by members of her court, laughing in her gardens, which had been famous for their beauty and variety of species throughout the entire galaxy. Allura remembered holding her mother's hand, playing one of the Queen's favorite games, in which everyone combed the garden for what they considered the prettiest flower, and then presented them to the Queen for judgment. The winner won the entire collection of flowers piled at the laughing Queen's feet, and he or she almost always gathered them into a bouquet to present to the Queen. A very few times, Allura herself had been the recipient of such a bouquet. Her mother would gather her into her lap, her long, blond, shining hair hanging down like a curtain separating the two of them from the rest of the world, while her mother whispered to her that she, Allura, was the prettiest and rarest flower in all the gardens of Arus. Allura felt the tears gathering, and blinked them back quickly. _No time, no time_, she told herself. There never was any time. She could not afford memories, not here, not now. They made her weak.

She reached into the small bag she kept fastened to her belt and felt a reassuring chirping and warmth. She pulled the little mouse, her constant companion, out into her cupped palms. He was unusually still, staring raptly into her face. _Cheddar, you have to help me_. She spoke to him mind-to-mind, not wanting to risk detection by whispering. _Bad men are hunting me. I'm going to hide in Mother's chambers. I need you to run to the stairs and make as mush noise as you can. Then find Koran._ The little mouse wiggled his whiskers at her. _Cheddar, do you understand?_ The little mouse nipped her palm, and she knew that he did. With a sigh, she placed him carefully on the ground and watched him go.

Her mother's dressing room was shaped like an octagon, with a door in the middle that led off to her bathing room. Every other side of the room was lined with racks of dresses of every imaginable hue and material. This room was one of the few that had not been touched by the bombings and had not been plundered by Zarkon's invading soldiers. Robots were interested only in death, not dresses. And no one else had bothered to remove them, not only out of respect for their beloved dead Queen, but because they had no practical value. You couldn't eat a dress, or use it as a weapon. The material was too flimsy to use for warmth. Allura bit her lip. _How am I going to do this?_

"Hide and seek, pretty Princess," the men called. "Princess hides, Zarkon seeks. But not before we find you first." They were getting closer.

She spied a rack of cloaks hanging to her right, and made up her mind in an instant. She chose one of the sturdiest, darkest cloaks hanging in the middle of the rack, and wriggled herself into it. Wrapping the cloak securely around herself, making sure no part of herself showed, she tried to make herself as flat and still as possible. They were in her mother's bedroom now; she could hear them muttering and joking. "Not under the bed," one of them said. "To bad she's not in it, eh?" another laughed. She knew they were headed for her hiding place next, and a sudden chilling thought occurred to her. They were being very thorough in their search; what if they saw her feet? She thought the cloak was long enough, but what if it wasn't? Or worse yet, what if they checked the clothing at ground level, or even poked through the clothes with their weapons? She had been hoping they wouldn't be so thorough, but now, she wasn't sure, and didn't want to take the chance.

She took a deep breath and jumped up lightly, catching the sturdy metal clothing rail in her hands. She wiggled her fingers a bit, pulling the hood of the midnight-blue velvet cloak forward so that it covered her hands. Hanging from the rail left at least a half a foot of space between her feet and the floor. She prayed it would be enough; it was all she had time to do before the door burst open and two men entered.

"Would you look at this?" one of them said to the other, wonder in his voice.

"It looks like a dress shop in here," the other one said. "My woman back home would have a fainting spell. Was always a sucker for a pretty dress." He sounded wistful at his last comment.

"Ryka doin' OK?" the other one asked. Allura tried to breathe as shallowly as possible, but a part of her mind was racing. These men had families. She didn't want to think of them that way. And then, her rage was back. They had wives, and probably mothers and fathers, too. Unlike her.

"Yeah," the other man mumbled. "Look, let's just do our job and get out of here. The money from this job will go a long way to making her even better."

The other man merely grunted in response, and then the worst happened. He dropped to his knees and began running his hand underneath the dresses. The other man did the same, starting in the opposite side of the room. She calculated he would reach her in less than two minutes. She hoped her trick would work. She closed her eyes and began to pray with every fiber of her soul, something she hadn't done since her parents died and Zarkon had laid waste to her planet, her home. On that day, the gods and goddesses of Arus had died to her. She had stopped praying to anyone but her father on the day they laid him in his tomb.

_Divine Lyssa, warrior maiden and protector of the innocent, I, Allura, need your help. Protect me in my time of need, of helplessness, and I will swear my life to your service. Help me drive this scourge of evil from your planet, and I will fight in your name with every fiber of my being…_

A sudden crash followed by a shout interrupted her prayer. "Hey! Guys! Over here! I think she made it past us, towards the stairs!" The two mercenaries were up in an instant, racing towards the stairs. They left the dressing room door gaping open. _Cheddar_, she thought, but a part of her mind strayed back to her prayer, and the oath she had just taken. She was surprised at herself, but could not bring herself to regret it. She wasn't sure if she believed in the gods or goddesses anymore, but she knew that she would fight for her home. She heard shouts and the sound of fighting, of laser shots being exchanges and the screams of pain and death. She knew them all too well now.

_Koran. Cheddar must have gotten through._ She did not let go of the rail, though. Her arm muscles were screaming at her, and she cursed herself for her weakness, but she still hung on. She had learned long ago not to take chances.

She didn't let go until she heard Koran himself calling for her. "Allura? Princess?" She recognized his light step followed closely by the thump of his cane. "Princess, it's alright to come out. We… took care of them."

She rushed to the North Tower's main corridor, tears streaming down her face. She flung her arms around the castle diplomat and her surrogate father while what was left of the Royal Guard stood around them, weapons at the ready.

"Oh, Koran. I was so scared. Those weren't robots."

Koran's eyes looked suspiciously watery as he held her equally tightly. "I know, Princess. Robots don't bleed."

He held her while she cried and the Royal Guard formed a tight, protective circle around the two of them. "I can't even be angry with you, Allura. I understand why you come here." He tilted her head upward, wiping the tears from her face. "I miss them too. But it would do them no good, and do no honor to their memories, if you squandered the life they died to protect so carelessly."

"But I get so tired of the caves," she murmured, her face buried in his shirt.

"I know, Princess. We all do."

"When will it end, Koran? What will it take? Sometimes I don't even remember what we're fighting for."

"I wish I could answer you, princess, but I can't. It will take as long as it takes, and the gods only know how long that will be." He smiled while he held her. "But I do have a piece of good news for you."

She backed away from him, realizing how filthy she was by the mess she had made of his usually impeccable shirt. She _had_ been crawling around on the floor, after all. "What? Did Nanny make a chocolate cake?"

He laughed, more excited than she had seen him in months. "Oh no, something much better. Galaxy Garrison finally responded to our calls. It seems they'll be sending help, after all."

Allura's eyes grew wide with excitement. "What kind? How many?" she demanded. "When? When will they be here?"

Koran placed an arm around her shoulder, leading her to the secret passageway in her father's library. He thought of the mangled bodies tangled up and down the main staircase, and decided to take the princess down the alternate route instead. "They are sending some of their best pilots and specialists here, princess. Five of them, to be exact. It doesn't sound like much, but I was assured that in addition to being excellent fighters and pilots, they all have areas of specialization that could be critical to building a decent defense."

Allura's face fell. "So they still aren't taking us seriously."

"Five is better than nothing," Koran gently chided her. "The communications liaison, a Lieutenant Lyssa, assured me they were, mmm, how did she put it? 'Not your average Garrison team.' I took that as a good sign…." Koran trailed off at the look on Allura's face. She had become alarmingly pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead. "Princess? Are you alright?" Inwardly, he was cursing himself. She must be going into shock. Who knew how close those mercenaries gotten, what they had said, how frightened she must have been. He motioned to one of the guards, indicating that he should pick her up and carry her. She looked close to fainting, but Allura shook him off.

"What did you say about a communications officer?" she asked him urgently.

"Lieutenant Lyssa, she assured me this group of young men would be… useful, if not exactly 'by the book'. All in all, it was quite reassuring," Koran rambled on, relieved the Princess hadn't suddenly fallen over.

"That's what I thought you said," Allura replied, to no one in particular, making her way down the dark, winding staircase in a daze.


	2. Chapter 2: Not What I Signed Up For

Author's note: I am doing my best to keep to the "T" rating, but there are parts in italics that may push the envelope slightly…. just to warn you….to write it any other way would mean losing some authenticity, but I really don't think it's that bad that's it's "M" worthy…

Playlist: this chapter was constructed with lots of Calexico playing in the background, specifically, "Dark Eyes," "Black Heart," "House of Valparaiso," and "The News About William."

Oh, and all standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc….

Chapter Two:

Not What I Signed Up For…

Commander Keith Kogane stared out over the wasted sandscape that seemed to stretch on endlessly, fighting down competing impulses of fear and irritation. He could not have planned out a more disastrous mission if he had tried. He stood on the top of the wreckage of their stolen Drule spacecraft, wondering for the umpteenth time what the hell he had gotten himself into when he had agreed to lead this "vital exploratory mission" to a distant planet called Arus. So far, nothing had gone according to plan. He glanced down through the hatch into the bowels of the wreckage before looking up anxiously at the sky.

"Find anything?" he asked tersely.

A small, owlish face popped up from the wreck, framed by waves of curly red-brown hair and huge glasses. "This is fascinating technology," the owlish face told him as its owner climbed up out of the ship. "The Drules use a kind of dual-core system that routes power through the ship in alternating bursts. It makes them much more efficient than your standard Garrison fighter, and could, potentially, make them more maneuverable in a firefight…." Keith took a deep breath. Irritation was winning.

"I think he means anything _tangible_, kiddo," quipped Lance McClain, following behind their youngest teammate. "Like, something we could drink." Lance smiled broadly as he held up a small flask with Drule designs on one side of it. "And I think I've got it right here."

Pidge's eyes grew even rounder behind his glasses. "But, Lance, that's… that's Drule _alcohol_," he said, sounding every bit of fourteen years old.

"Exactly," Lance said, still smirking. He tucked the bottle into his jacket. "I'll just put it right here and save it for a special occasion."

Keith ignored them, still watching the skies. "Hunk? Sven? What about you?"

"Nothing," Sven said as he climbed up beside his commander. Hunk said nothing as he climbed out behind Sven.

Keith turned to face the four other men he had left a relatively secure life in New York City behind to command. In many ways, they were still strangers to him, and to each other, he was willing to bet. But they had already been through more hell together just getting to this wasted planet than he had anticipated encountering on the whole mission. He had a momentary flashback to the brief conversation he'd had with Admiral Hawkins as the five of them got ready to depart Earth.

"You'll be largely on your own," he'd been warned. "Arus is on the far side of the galaxy. Any distress call we got from you would be difficult to answer in a reasonable amount of time. And of course, there is the covert aspect of this operation."

"Voltron," Keith had said, still unsure whether he believed in that particular brand of madness and magic. But it would get him out of New York, and the memories that stalked him there….

He looked at his team. He knew it was time to say something uplifting, something that would rally their flagging morale and prepare them for the next impossible step. But he couldn't. His gut instinct and the burning letters on his arm were telling him to be honest.

"We've got to make it to the castle, guys," he said. "We have no food, no water, no way to call for help, and no one to answer such a call were we even able to make one. But our best chance of survival lies across that desert."

"Ah, well, we've already been shot down, captured by Drules, branded as slaves, almost fed to Robeasts, and attacked by the very people we're supposed to be here to help. A long, waterless trek across a desert to a castle that may or may not be abandoned should be a piece of cake," Lance quipped.

Keith stared at him for a long moment. He was aware of Lance's criminal past; the Admiral had, in fact, sprung him from prison specifically because he was the best pilot they could dig up. He knew Lance was using humor to deflect the pain and madness they had all been subjected to over the course of the last few days. He supposed it was as healthy an outlet as any.

He worried about the others, though. Pidge was so young, and had been very quiet since they escaped from Doom. Sven and Hunk were older and harder around the edges, but even they had been affected by the ordeal. Keith's mind started drifting backward on him, remembering the dungeons of Doom….

_They had been shackled in a round room, facing one another, but far enough away so that they couldn't touch. Shrieks and screams emanated through the walls around them. Keith smelled the unmistakable stench of burning flesh, followed by human screams…. The others were shaken, but the small one was terrified. Keith could see it- Pidge was coming apart. Not even out of the academy when he had been tagged for this mission, Pidge had no training for this. When a woman suddenly began screaming in a nearby cell, begging and pleading over the laughter and jeers of several guards, the youngest member of his team began to shake, turning white. _

"_Pidge!" Keith yelled at him, trying to drown out the sound of tearing cloth and screaming. "Pidge! I want you to focus on me NOW, soldier. Look at me. Listen to what I'm telling you. Each of us here, all four of us, are going to take turns telling you about our lives before coming to this place. You will pay strict attention, soldier. You will ignore everything around you and absorb the information we are going to give you. There will be a test afterward, and for every question you miss, you will do double the time at P.T."_

_The others in the cell looked at Keith, surprised, perhaps even grateful, but sure he was crazy. Keith didn't care. He just hoped it worked. They all felt a little protective of their youngest member. Lance even flashed him a smile. "You will stay with me, soldier," Keith continued, relentlessly. He was doing his best to imitate the worst drill sergeant he'd had back at the academy, and it seemed to be working, because Pidge was now focused on his every word. He had snapped out of the worst of his trembling at the word 'test'. "As commanding officer, I'll start, and we'll work our way around the room clockwise." Keith took a deep breath. He wasn't talkative, and disliked sharing personal details, but he would do anything to drown out the sounds of torture that seemed to never end….._

They trekked across the monotonous landscape, one after the other, conserving their energy as best they could. Each step was slow and careful; no conversation was made. The castle had finally appeared in the distance, giving them the briefest burst of hope that they might actually make it, when Sven, the quietest of them all, said, softly, "Incoming."

Keith swore. They could all hear it now, the distant roar of an aircraft coming rapidly closer. He appraised the distance to the castle and looked back to the approaching fighter.

"Probably a reconnaissance drone," Hunk said, breaking his long silence. "From the sound of the engine." If Hunk could tell that much from merely the sound of an engine, then he'd be the magician of a mechanic he'd been promised to be. He'd be a real asset, if they ever got their hands on anything mechanical again.

Low, scrubby bushes clung to the sides of a few scattered boulders several feet to their left. "Not that I doubt you, Hunk, but we can't take the chance of being spotted," Keith said. "Let's do our best to take cover, now!" he shouted as the aircraft drew closer. He raced for a boulder, calling out instructions as he ran. "Get as close to it, or one of those bushes, as you can. Dig into the sand as best you can, if you have to." _And pray_, he wanted to add, but didn't. He never gave advice he wouldn't take himself.

Keith dropped to his belly but waited until the rest of his team had found cover to crawl towards a boulder. Just as he did so, he felt a rising wind at his exposed back. Caught between relief and fear, he called out to the others. The sandstorm would provide some cover, but was also potentially dangerous. "Sandstorm! Protect your faces! Use your jackets and cross your arms around your head! Hug the ground!" Soon a high-pitched wailing wind began to whip across the top of his exposed body. Flying sand scourged the exposed parts of his body, namely his upper arms. The brand he had gotten on Doom got the worst of it, and he welcomed the pain, hoping the sand would scrape the damn thing off his arm entirely, removing the Drule characters that said, simply: Slave. Planet Doom...

_"And so then I cut the engine and the lights and coasted right up to the headmaster's garage. I snuck back in through the side door and hit the manual override on the garage door. I pulled the garage door up, inch by inch, until it was lifted up enough to get that baby back in there." Lance looked wistful, caught up entirely in his memories of one of his favorite, and most famous, escapades. "I let that door back down again, inch by inch, too, except sometimes I'd have to stop and lubricate the gears. They'd stick every now and then." Lance was blissful, thinking back, which was exactly what Keith had intended to happen. Not even the sounds of the guards making their rounds, or the distant screams of fellow prisoners, penetrated his reverie. "The headmaster knew someone drove her, but he never found out for sure it was me." Keith looked at his teammates. They had been listening as Lance told them stories, just as they had been listened to when it had been their turn to share. Pidge was watching Lance's lips raptly, and was prepared when Keith barked, "Soldier, report!"_

_"Yes sir?" Pidge asked, preparing himself for the onslaught of questions from his commander. Keith breathed a little easier as he looked at their youngest member. Being addressed as soldier had helped the youngster feel stronger, he could tell, and giving him a concrete task to focus on had helped keep his mind off their surroundings and their own grim fate. _

_"What kind of vehicle was Lance referring to?" Keith asked, still channeling his least favorite drill instructor._

_"A Porsche sir, specifically a 911 Turbo coupe, silver in color, with a black leather interior."_

_Keith smiled. He had heard of the incident during his Academy years. He couldn't believe he was the commanding officer of the perpetrator. That was either very bad, or very good. Maybe both. The others were smiling too. Hunk actually looked a little lustful. _

_"What was Lance's top speed in the stolen vehicle, soldier?" he barked._

_"Approximately __321.86 kilometers, or 200 miles, per hour, sir," Pidge replied quickly_

_"Hey!" Lance protested. "I didn't steal it. I just borrowed it. I brought it back just fine, thank you." Sven actually snorted, the closest thing the Norwegian had ever come to laughter. This was going incredibly well, Keith thought. _

_"How did Lance get into the garage in the first place?" Keith demanded._

_Pidge was just opening his mouth to answer when the door flew open and three Drule guards marched in. He hastily shut his mouth, and looked, trembling, at the floor. Keith cursed inwardly, but he had known something like this was bound to happen. He noticed the others tensing up immediately, preparing themselves for whatever was coming their way. Keith wanted to call out to the young pilot, but he didn't want to single him out in any way, either. _

_"Which one of you is the leader?" asked one of the guards in heavily accented English._

_Keith was prepared. "I am," he said. "Commander Keith Akira Kogane. Galaxy Garrison Identification number 322404562…"_

_The guard kicked him in the stomach. Keith grunted, managing to keep himself from crying out. Think of your teammates, think of the young one, he told himself fiercely. _

_"No one here cares," the guard said. "Here, you're nothing more than another one of King Zarkon's slaves." One of the guards squatted down and released Keith's left hand, holding it tightly in his grasp. The other guard swooped down, quick as lightening, and drove a white-hot branding iron into Keith's inner forearm. The searing pain of a thousand suns focused itself on that one part of his body, and he did scream then, he couldn't help it…._

_Each one of them had gotten the same treatment, even poor Pidge, who had passed out from the ordeal. Each of them had been reshackled immediately. As the guards left the room, one of them turned back. "Zarkon wants you in the arena tomorrow. He wants to see how the brave Galaxy Garrison space explorers stand up against one of his Robeasts. So make sure you get your… how do you Earthmen say it? Your beauty sleep?" The guard laughed as he shut the door. Even Lance had no comeback for that one, though, as they stared at one another, horrified._

_Ironically, it had been Pidge who had saved them all. Because he had been passed out when the guards reshackled him, they had neglected to make sure he was fastened securely. He was able to get an arm free, and pick the lock on the other, and then, he went to work on his teammates. "Lance first," he whispered, his face white as a sheet. Pidge turned to look Keith full in the face. "Because he picked the lock, sir. That's how he got into the headmaster's garage. Sir." _

_Keith smiled. That was the moment when he knew they were going to make it._

The sandstorm passed almost as quickly as it had started. Keith shook his head and stood slowly, sand falling off him in a steady stream. "I think that drone's passed," he said. "Let's get to that castle." They were close enough to see a good bit of detail, and Keith didn't hold out much hope for a warm welcome waiting inside. Most of the castle had been blasted into the ground, with only part of one tower and some of the lower floors still standing.

He could see, though, that it had once been beautiful. As they got closer, he could see cracked marble walkways leading to patches of burned, scorched earth; low, empty fountains dotted the grounds here and there. One of them, large enough to have once been an artificial pond, was covered with fish bones at its bottom. He walked on, numb to it all. Behind him, one of his teammates sighed. "So much death and destruction." It was Pidge. Did only the youngest of them have any feeling left?

They passed through the main archway leading up to the castle. A statue of a lion stood proudly on top of the archway, it alone seemingly untouched by the destruction all around it. It gave Keith a feeling of hope, to see that one thing standing fierce and protective, guarding his kingdom that once had been. As he passed under the archway, he could have sworn he heard a low roar, but no one else reacted, and it could easily have been the wind…

As they ascended the steps of the castle proper, Lance called out, "Dibs on any beautiful princesses!" and bounded up into the dim interior.

"Now wait a minute," Sven said with his thick accent, following close behind. "No way do you get dibs on any princesses!"

"Ok, Ok, you can have dibs on the second beautiful princess we rescue," Lance called back.

Keith approached more slowly. He doubted they were in any danger, as the place looked truly deserted, but he kept his hand on the blaster strapped to his side. He knew, despite their banter, the others were doing the same. As they reached the interior of the ruined castle, they drew up sharply into a group again.

"Wow, would you look at this?"

"Zarkon sure did a number on this place."

Keith rubbed his branded arm. He felt light-headed, and a bit feverish. He thought perhaps he was imagining the older man descending the stairs towards them, so he did not draw his weapon, and neither, he noticed, did his teammates. The feeling of lightheadedness did not go away, and he found himself nodding as he overheard introductions. Koran. His name was Koran. Castle Diplomat. He filed it away for future reference.

And then she stepped into view, blond hair blazing like the sun, her dress gathered carefully with one hand while her other trailed the curving staircase, stepping as lightly as if she were dancing. Unsure of herself. Frightened. He saw wariness battle with hope in deep blue eyes, and he wondered who and what had put such emotions there, and vowed to find out. She had the nervous grace of a wild creature that had been caught and caged, and he had a sudden and intense longing to lead her out of the tomb of a castle in which they stood towards a safe green place where she could sit in mindless freedom. But there was no safe, green place on Arus.

Keith watched her, numbly, as she came towards him. For a second he wondered why, and then remembered he was there on a mission, that he had a job to do, and he found himself kneeling before her outstretched hand, and taking it into his own. When their hands met, he felt a warmth and a safety, as if a place had been prepared for him, long ago, and that all he had to do was claim it, and it would be his, and she was at the center of it. He looked into her eyes and saw that she felt it too; her lips parted slightly and a single tear wavered in the corner of her eye. Home, he realized. It had been so long since he'd had one. She felt like home. And he heard himself making an oath, not knowing if he said it first or was repeating what someone told him to, but he meant it with every fiber of his being:

_My life to your service….._


	3. Chapter 3: No Safe, Green Place on Arus

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read and review this story. It's my first, and I appreciate all of your _constructive_ comments. I hope they can help me become a better writer so I can better explore the Voltron Universe I've loved since I was a child.

Playlist: A wonderful live collaboration between Calexico and Iron and Wine, recorded in London. Obviously I'm on a big Calexico kick. I keep including my musical selections because music sustains a kind of mood as I write. It's an important part of my composition process.

As always, the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Three:

No Safe, Green Place on Arus

Captain Alexander Der' Elison watched from the shadows as the five bedraggled Galaxy Garrison "soldiers" knelt and kissed his Princess's hand. If he were to judge them solely by their outer appearance, then Galaxy Garrison might as well have saved the fuel it cost them to get here. To call them bedraggled would have been a kindness; they lacked a cohesive uniform, some of them dressed in what he suspected would have passed for street clothes on their native Earth. Only two of them, in fact, appeared to be wearing any kind of uniform, and even their clothing was torn and stained in places. They all could have used a bath and a shave, except for the smallest of them. Captain Der' Elison squinted at him, slightly shocked, as he realized the smallest one didn't need a shave because he probably wasn't old enough to need one yet. How old was he? Twelve? His keen eyes swept over the rest of the group, trying to discern as much information as he could from his position behind one of the large pillars of the main hall of the ruined castle. His spirits sagged a bit. Even the oldest couldn't be much out of his teens. Although they didn't look threatening, he kept his weapon at the ready, gripped tightly with the sights on and the safety off, pointed directly at the man who had identified himself as the leader. He glanced around him, knowing the rest of the Royal Guard was doing the same, from their positions in the shadows behind the pillars. They would take no chances with their Princess's safety.

As the one who had identified himself as the commander of the group reached out his hand to the Princess's, the Captain of the Royal Guard took a sharp intake of breath. From behind the closest pillar, his second in command, Lieutenant Micah Aliesse, looked at him sharply, alarm written clearly on his face. The Captain shook his head, signing to him in the battle signals of the Royal Guard, _no danger yet apparent. _The soldier relaxed a bit but did not lower his weapon. Alexander signed again, _but, Micah, look at his arm_.

The kneeling commander's sleeve, obviously shredded and bloodstained, had been rolled half way up his forearm. Alexander approved, because it meant the gruesome fabric would not touch the Princess, and hopefully not frighten her. He wondered if it had been deliberate, if the man kneeling in front of her had done it to shield the princess from this tiny evidence of atrocity. The princess could not see the bottom of the man's forearm from the way he had grasped her hand, but Alexander could, and he suppressed a shudder even as his estimation of the man in front of him rose sharply, even frightening him a bit. The kneeling commander, who looked dazed and star-struck as he gazed up into Princess Allura's face, bore the angry, festering slave brand of Planet Doom on his arm. The wound was raw and red, and definitely infected, but Alexander could make out the Drule letters through the scope on his rifle. Micah followed suit, and stiffened.

They all knew what the brand meant. They had heard of it, but had never seen it in person, burned into anyone's flesh before. It meant the man had been marked as a slave on Planet Doom itself, and no one, no one ever, had been branded as one of Zarkon's slaves and escaped to tell about it. The Captain of the Royal Guard signed rapidly at Micah, and each soldier signed rapidly back at him from their positions in the shadows, spread across the ruins of the Great Hall. The rest of the Guard, each with a rifle trained on one of the young men, all had the same report. Every single member of the bedraggled group in front of them either bore the slave brand openly, or had a bloodstained patch of sleeve where the brand would have been. Alexander shook his head, angry with himself for underestimating the five young men, but also suddenly grateful for their presence. No one escaped the dungeons of Doom. No one.

Many of them had lost relatives to Zarkon's slave pits, victims of the constant raids on their small planet. He thought of his own young wife, barely twenty-two when they had taken her. If these five could escape, then maybe…. But he flattened the thought as soon as it surfaced. He could not afford hope right now; it was more expensive even than grief. Later, in his chambers, he would let his emotions surface, but not now. He had the Princess of Arus to protect, and he would do it with his very life, if needed, as all the Royal Guard would, even though he had failed to protect his own wife. He blinked fiercely. He would not fail again. _My life for your service_, he vowed, as he watched the Princess urge the commander to rise. Her golden hair looked like a halo around her, and he thought, again, of how she was the very heart and soul of what was left of Arus. She was why he fought.

The entire group of five looked almost hypnotized as they gazed at the Princess, and he knew she had touched them all in some way. Perhaps these men would turn out to be what they had been hoping for, and could help turn his men from grim soldiers who had been merely hanging on into some kind of actual resistance force against Zarkon. He offered a silent prayer to Aerion, god of war, that it was so. And so it was with mixed emotions that he watched as the commander rose from kneeling at the princess's feet, took one step backward, and passed out.

Everyone in the room watched in amazement as Keith came crashing to the ground.

"That must have been some kiss," Pidge muttered darkly.

Lance merely shook his head, surprised his Commander had made it this far. He had refused any rest during the flight from Doom, but had insisted the others take breaks in shifts. He had been at the forefront of the expedition through the desert, and of all of them, had drunk the most sparingly from the small amount of water they'd had to share. He had done of all of this without even a hint of complaint. The man was made of steel, Lance concluded, and if he could collapse, then so could he.

"I think that's the best idea the Commander's had all day," Lance declared, and promptly plopped down on the gray flagstone of the castle's floor. "I, for one, think a nap is an excellent idea, but I would like to lodge a formal complaint with the commander about his choice of venue when he wakes up." Despite his light banter, Lance was afraid he was close to total muscle failure, and knew the rest of the team had to be in just as bad shape as himself. And Keith… Lance smiled, thinking of the opportunities this would give him to dig at the commander in the future. The most beautiful woman any of them had seen in… well, maybe ever, and their fearless commander had to go and literally fall over at her feet. _Smooth, Keith, real smooth._

Princess Allura stared in shock at the man at her feet. _Why didn't I see it before? These men have been through hell and back._ She remembered the commander's touch, the feel of his lips on her hand, and the shock she felt when she felt his mind open to hers, even if only briefly. She had not been prepared. Mind-to-mind contact was rare enough among her own people; she had never expected it to happen with a total stranger from another planet. She realized, now, the effort it must have cost him as he tried to project feelings of safety and… home? _She had felt an assurance that he would protect her, and an image of a safe, green Arus, where she could finally leave the caves and the ruins of the castle and be safe under clear skies_….

She had not felt such a powerful bond since her father had died. This man was promising her his protection and guardianship, and she, remembering the safety of her father's arms and the Arus that had been, had accepted, all of it happening in an instant, their promise passing between them quickly and silently, a private bond that she understood, but one that left the soldier from Earth bewildered and drained. She wondered if he even understood what had passed between them so swiftly. But she did. She would remember, and so would he, eventually.

"Stand down, Captain Der' Elison," she said. "These men are allies and pose no threat to us." She turned to Koran, every inch the princess she had been trained to be since birth. "We are not so far gone that we must keep worthy men wanting when they have come to help us." Koran raised an eyebrow at her, still uncertain. _He opened his mind to me, Koran. _The diplomat's eyes widened in shock. _I don't think he meant to, and I have no idea how he was able, but he is a good man, as are his teammates. It clearly drained him. If you will see to the others, I will tend to him_. As she communicated with Koran, the Royal Guard materialized silently from the shadows around them, armed to the teeth and moving as one.

Lance felt a bit annoyed as he realized there had been armed guards ringing them the entire time. He was sick of being treated like a criminal, until he realized, belatedly, that he technically was one. Well, only a minor one. He sighed.

Koran cleared his throat. "Gentleman, if you'll forgive our necessary caution, you may follow me, and I'll show the way to slightly better accommodations. We can provide you with food, clothing, bathing facilities, and medical care…." Koran said, leading the group towards the back of the main hall, where the entrance to the caves began.

Lance turned back towards the princess and his prone commander. "But what about Commander Kogane?" he asked, concerned.

Allura smiled at him gently. "I'll take care of him. He'll join you as soon as he is able, I promise."

Lance looked as if he wanted to argue, but seemed to think better of it, following his teammates as they disappeared into the darkness. _Five minutes to total muscle failure_, he reminded himself. He would be no good to anyone then. _Besides, I can't have the most beautiful woman I've ever seen thinking all of us Earth men will just faint at the sight of her._ He tried to add a cool little swagger to his walk, telling his screaming muscles to shut the hell up.

Allura knelt down beside the man at her feet, her dress pooling around her as she did so, mindless of the dirt and grime she was getting all over it. She hated pink anyway, and had deliberately chosen the color because Nanny threw a fit when she tried to appear before the strangers in a tunic and leggings. If Nanny was going to treat her like a child, then she would dress like one. _Nanny had better hope I don't have to make a sudden run for it_, she thought darkly, picturing herself tumbling down the stairs, twisted up in her skirts, as she tried to run from a group of mercenaries. With her brightly colored, voluminous skirts wrapping her up, all she would have to do would be to put a bow on her forehead and deliver herself as a present to Zarkon. _But then, full skirts would give me a chance to hide a blaster_…. She had waited until Nanny was occupied in her bathroom, hunting for something to tie up her hair, before she had slipped over to her bedside table and slid out the black leather holster she had adapted to strap onto her thigh. She reached under her pillow for her favorite blaster and slid it quickly into the holster. She was back at her dressing table looking like a prim and proper princess before Nanny was back. She had smiled at her reflection. The feeling of the blaster against her thigh helped her to relax a little.

She leaned in to look more closely at the commander's face, and smiled at what she saw. He had a kind face, but she could see the steel beneath it, too. She brushed black hair off his forehead, letting her fingers linger there, hoping her touch could restore some of the energy he had lost during their brief mind-to-mind contact. "Keith," she murmured. "Keith, can you hear me?" She frowned when he didn't respond. She placed her hand flat against his forehead, tempted to probe his psyche, but she was afraid he had already pushed himself too far. She sighed and stroked his face. "Keith. You're safe," she said. "You made it. You're on Arus." Still no response.

Sitting cross-legged, she wiggled in even closer to his side, delighted to be getting the hated pink dress even dirtier. _She'll make me wear it again,_ Allura thought darkly. _Nanny can clean anything._

"Princess?" Captain Der' Elison said hesitantly. Allura fought down irritation. She knew better than to think he would leave her completely unguarded. But he had served her parents before her, and had saved her life many times before now. She would not fault him for his devotion. "Perhaps Dr. Gorma?" he suggested.

Allura shook her head. "No need, Captain. Just give him a bit more time."

Alexander Der' Elison stepped back, not wanting to contradict the princess. It was not his place, and she was frequently right about matters of healing.

Allura gathered Keith's hand in hers, intending to pull him into her lap, when she saw the Drule writing branded into his arm. She hissed. She would have Dr. Gorma treat it later. The wound was already an angry, seeping red against his skin. Tears again threatened when she thought of what Zarkon had done, to her people, her planet, and now this man lying prone before her. He had been in the dungeons of Doom….

And then she was weeping freely, silent tears running over her cheeks. "Keith," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please, wake up." She put her hands on each side of his face and called to him with her mind. _Keith. Wake up. We need you. Your team needs you. I think…I think I need you._ She concentrated on reaching his mind, sending him the image he had shown her, of a green Arus, with safe, clear skies….

"How did you know my name?"

She opened her eyes and found herself staring into a pair of dark brown ones, full of confusion and concern. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Reaching him had taken effort. "What?" she asked, confused in turn. Of all the questions he could have asked her…

"My name. You knew it. But I introduced myself only as Commander Kogane. How did you know?" He looked into her deep blue eyes, and saw the tears gathered there. He cursed to himself. Someone had been making her cry. Probably him. Damn. He vowed, then, that he would make her smile soon. He would find a way.

She answered him tremulously. "You told me."

"I did?" He became aware that part of him was sprawled across her lap, and the other part of him was flat on the cold hard floor. Very unprofessional, he scolded himself. She was cradling his injured arm in her lap, and the wound had opened again, seeping blood onto her skirt. He tried to pull his arm away from her, but she clung to it. "But I'm bleeding on you, Princess," he protested. "I'll ruin your dress."

Her response surprised him. "Good," she said, wickedness and merriment flashing across her face. _Whoa, girl. That response could be interpreted a number of ways…._

"Where is everyone?" he asked, looking for his teammates. "Are they ok?"

Captain Der' Elison stepped forward once again, grasping Keith firmly by his free hand. He gave the princess a disapproving look before pulling Keith up off the ground. "If you'll follow me, Commander, I'll take you to the rest of them. They're below ground, where what's left of the population has gone for safety. You can see them, and we'll have Dr. Gorma look at your arm." Keith, caught in his iron grip, could only follow him. "Princess," the Captain of the Royal Guard called. "You had best come with us, you know."

Keith looked back over his shoulder to see a very dirty Princess grinning impishly at him. "Of course, Captain," she said archly. "My royal personage will have to change out of this ruined dress immediately," she sighed, with heavily feigned regret. She followed the two men, almost skipping. _They've come. They're really here. Oh, Lyssa, Warrior Maiden, I don't know if you're out there or not, but thanks be to you for this chance. And I won't forget my promise. I'll fight alongside them. And you'll help me, I know you will. _She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so light-hearted. She looked down at her grimy, bloodstained dress, and thought of Nanny, and grinned. Even Nanny couldn't do anything with bloodstains.

Keith, still watching her, wished he could hear what she was thinking. He leaned in closer to the captain of the Royal Guard, speaking low enough that he hoped she couldn't hear him. "I really am sorry I bled all over her dress," he said, trying to apologize, puzzled by the princess's behavior.

Alexander smiled but did not release his grip on Keith. "Don't worry about it," he whispered back. "She really, really hates pink dresses."


	4. Chapter 4: The Obsidian Caves

Author's Note: Lance is so wicked. He's one of my favorites. Don't worry, though; plenty of action just around the corner, of the battle variety.

Playlist: Ryan Adams "Cold Roses," both discs.

Chapter Four:

The Obsidian Caves

Lance leaned back against the smooth obsidian rock, closing his eyes as he let the near-scalding water sink into his aching muscles. He stretched experimentally. His upper back seemed to have gotten the worst of it; when his arms had been shackled to the walls of the dungeon back on Planet Doom, he'd had to support the rest of his body weight using his upper body alone. Nothing seemed pulled, though. He was pretty sure a bit of rest and gentle treatment would have him back in decent shape in no time. He smiled lazily, imagining how good a massage would feel right about now, especially if administered by a certain blue-eyed princess…

The underground caves of Arus, where the survivors had fled following the Drule King's relentless attacks and raids, were scattered with hot springs of various temperatures and sizes. The people of Arus had built rock walls and barriers around them for privacy, and Lance was grateful that such a war-torn, desolate place harbored a secret retreat for its people who had suffered so horribly, even if it was only something as minor as a relaxing soak.

Like the rest of them, he had refused any medical attention. There was nothing to be done about the wound on his arm except to keep it clean and watch for infection. He had been assured the minerals in the hot springs would help with the cleansing and healing, not that he had needed the extra incentive. The marks themselves were probably on him for life. He bit down on his anger at the thought; there was so much to enjoy at the moment, why ruin it with memories of things he couldn't change? It was so much nicer to relax in the obsidian chambers of the underground hot springs of Arus….

"Lance?" Pidge asked him, sounding strangely hesitant.

"Mmm?" he mumbled, eyes still closed, luxuriating in the steaming, slightly metallic smelling water.

"Uh, can you tell me where they put the swimsuits?"

Even with his eyes closed, Lance could feel Pidge blushing, and he chuckled. "I wouldn't know, little buddy," he replied, sinking down in the water until it was up to his chin.

"What do you mean, _you don't know?_" Pidge asked, incredulous.

"I mean, I don't know," Lance replied, raising himself up to chest level to look at his youngest teammate.

"You mean, you're in there… _without a swimsuit_?"

Lance just sighed and sank back down into the water. "When in Rome, little buddy," he said, and commenced, once again, to let his mind wander.

Sven and Hunk were in the water with him, but the pool was so large, no one felt crowded. Pidge stayed where he was, a look of helpless frustration and incredulity on his face.

"Really, Pidge, it's ok," Hunk attempted to assure him. "That guardsman, I think his name was Micah, he told me this was one of the private springs. There's a curtain up over the entrance to this cave, and there's a sign to turn when it's occupied."

"Yah, Pidge, you should really get in." Sven slid down into the water with such a look of bliss that Pidge was sorely tempted. "This is how they bathe on Arus. It's not so different from the way we do it back home in Norway."

"Or in Japan," Hunk said, a bit wistfully. "In fact, since you're still standing there, could you hand me that big bar of soap? Over there by the towel? Oh, and one of those small gray rocks…I hope that's what I think it is…"

"And what would that be?" Lance asked, mildly interested.

"Pumice," Hunk said, eagerly. "It feels great. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, everybody's happy," he said. Lance shrugged.

Pidge did as he was asked, grumbling something about being a glorified cabana boy, when Lance called out to him, "Oh, and would you get me that flask? The one from the Drule fighter? In the front pocket of my leather jacket? I believe this counts as a special occasion."

"You think everything's a special occasion," muttered Sven, but he did not object to the proposition.

Pidge was about to refuse when the curtain swung aside and a stout, plain-faced woman dressed in a starched apron and frilly cap came marching in carrying a pile of clothing. She ignored the chorus of protests from the three men immersed in the pool. "You must mean this leather jacket," she said, shaking the offending article of clothing at Lance. "Filthy, and full of awful Drule liquor. Don't worry, I got rid of it for you." She ignored Lance's look of outrage and continued. "And I have cleaned your clothing, as well. What was damaged beyond repair has been replaced with the closest thing I could find." She dumped the pile of clothing beside the towels stacked in a corner and turned to survey them with her hands on her hips, either oblivious to the fact that she was addressing a room nearly full of naked men, or else not caring.

"I should tell you right now that I am not only Head Housekeeper, and, as such, responsible for all the day-to-day operations of this place, but I am also the Princess Allura's Nanny. I served her mother before her, and have helped raise the Princess from babyhood," she said. From her stern manner and stiff bearing, Lance was suddenly reminded of a certain drill instructor from the academy. The two of them hadn't exactly gotten along. He felt his irritation rise as he guessed where this little lecture was headed.

"We are all living under unusual circumstances since Zarkon first attacked. Princess Allura has been forced to assume responsibilities beyond anything a normal Princess should ever have to deal with. She is not only the ruler of the entire planet, and the last surviving member of the Royal House of Altaire, but she is also the head of the armed forces, such as we have, and is therefore sometimes placed in close quarters with… fighting men…. such as yourself, and it is vital that all parties concerned never forget that she is a Princess, and should be treated as one…"

Lance had enough. "Yeah, yeah, we get it," he said, rising from the pool with his arms crossed in front of him. Water dripped down from the top of his wet head, across his shoulders, and down over his chest and calves. He stood defiantly naked in front of the Princess's Nanny, arching one eyebrow at her. From a darkened corner, Pidge groaned. "We'll respect the Princess. We'll be perfect gentleman," he assured her, giving her a courtly bow made all the more ridiculous by his exposed state. "And thank you for seeing to our clothes."

Nanny turned a bright shade of red, mumbled something under her breath, and practically ran out the door. The others erupted into laughter, even Pidge, who threw Lance a towel. "Oh, man," Pidge said. "That was funny. Mean, but funny."

"Certainly not the way to win friends and influence people," Keith said, leaning casually just inside the entrance to the hot spring. He had somehow managed to find new clothes and get cleaned up. He wore a black t-shirt and dark jeans that blended in almost perfectly with the dark walls of the cave. His black hair clung together in wet strands swept back across his forehead.

Lance hastily slapped the towel around himself. "Oh, hey there, Keith! You missed a great soak… but, I guess there's still time, if you want to get in…" he trailed off lamely. Keith said nothing, merely looked at him, amused. Lance decided now was not the time for the Sleeping Beauty jokes he had been rehearsing.

"You doing ok, Keith?" Sven asked, a look of concern on his broad, rugged face. "Last time we saw you, you didn't look so good."

"Mmm-hmm." Keith wondered if he could even try to explain to his team about being caught up in the swirl of images and wordless communication, of the feeling he'd had about the Princess, that he had known her, before, somehow; had known Arus, when it had been green, and safe; that he, they, belonged here, protecting…. But words had never been his strong point. He was having problems articulating the experience even to himself, so he just shrugged and said, "I'm not sure what happened, but I feel great now."

It was true. He'd eaten and showered in what he assumed were the guard's quarters, and despite a little muscle soreness and the pain in his arm, he felt better than he had in days. "You guys should come with me. The rest of the underground shelters are pretty impressive. Whoever designed this place had obviously been thinking ahead." Keith spied Pidge lurking in the shadows, noticing that his young teammate had opted out of soaking with the other guys.

"It's actually more like an underground command center than a series of caves," he said, addressing himself to Pidge alone. "They have some pretty impressive technology back there." Pidge's eyes lit up. "And modern, _private_ showers, if you'd like one." He smiled at the look of relief on the young man's face. "Come on, I'll show you," he said, leading the way out of the hot spring cave while the rest of the guys took their time getting dressed. "We'll meet up in thirty minutes in Central Command for a briefing."

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

"Princess, it's out of the question!"

Koran's fist came slamming down on top of the conference table. It did not stop Allura's pacing. He hated it when she got like this. She simply couldn't be reasoned with at times like these. And it was critical, absolutely critical, that she listen to reason. King Alfor appointed him her councilor for a reason, and he hoped he would be able to fulfill his old friend's trust in him by getting through to his stubborn daughter…

Allura hugged her arms across her chest, walking in a tight circle at the head of the conference room. She had anticipated this kind of reaction. Koran meant well, but sometimes his intense protective feelings for her got in the way of clear thinking. She sighed, looking at her most treasured advisor and surrogate father. In the years since her father had died and Zarkon had increased the intensity of his attacks, she had watched as new lines of worry and stress etched themselves deeper into his face, and streaks of gray appeared throughout his hair. He was still a fit, formidable protector, however; few knew that the cane he leaned on lightly concealed a deadly lazon blade, and that he knew how to handle it. She smiled crookedly at him, catching his eye, her affection plain on her face. Even when they argued, he was still close to her heart.

_Damn,_ he thought. _Why does she have to look so much like her mother? And why is it that she can still twist me around her little finger, exactly like she has been able to do since she was two years old?_

"Princess, we simply can't entrust total strangers with our planet's last hope for our defense. Captain Der' Elison and any of his Guard would be much better choices… we know them, we can trust them, they've sworn themselves to Arus's defense…" he trailed off as he realized she was still smiling that crooked little smile at him. She had stopped pacing and was twisting the end of her almost waist length braid as she smiled, a little sadly, he thought.

"I've made up my mind," she said simply.

"But _why,_ Princess? Why now?"

She bit her lip, wondering how to make him believe her. _Because the black-haired one opened his mind to me, and I saw that he could do it? Because I saw all five of them in a dream? Because Father appeared to me and told me to believe?_ She took a deep breath and gave him the most logical reason. "Alex can't pilot them, Koran. He tried. Remember the last attack, when Zarkon destroyed almost all of our last air squadron? We ran to the caverns, and I gave him one of the keys, and he couldn't even make it power up."

_Alex? _Koran thought. _When did Captain Der' Elison, of the Arusian Royal Guard, become Alex to her?_ He looked at Allura, trying to see her through the eyes of a stranger rather than as her almost-father. How had he missed it? The young woman in front of him was breathtaking; the little girl he remembered had bloomed into a vibrant, shapely, blue-eyed beauty. And that was only what showed on the outside. _Alex. Hmmph. I will have to have a word with Captain Der' Elison…_

"Princess, the off-worlders couldn't possibly be the ones. Besides, we only have four of the lions," he continued to protest.

She stepped up right into his face, raising herself up to her full height. Even though she only came up to his chin, he blinked at the force behind her ocean-blue eyes. "Koran," she said, in a low, warning voice. "Trust me."

It was not a request.

That was how Keith found them, the two of them locked into some kind of intense staring contest, when he and his teammates entered the conference room. He cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, Princess, Councilor Koran. We were here for a briefing?"

The two stepped smoothly apart, the Princess taking the seat at the head of the table. Koran slid into the seat to her left.

Keith was amused to see that she was dressed more practically today, in an embroidered blue tunic that matched her eyes. Leggings of the same color and knee-high boots of black, supple leather completed the outfit. He still felt badly about ruining her dress, but she seemed comfortable, and pleased to see them. No hard feelings, then, he hoped, despite the Captain's earlier assurances about how she felt about pink dresses. _Just how was he so familiar with her clothing preferences, anyway_?

"Commander!" she waved to him, indicating the place to her immediate right. "Please, have a seat. And the rest of your team, please join us."

As he slid into the chair next to her and the rest of his team also sat, he found himself feeling suddenly nervous. He wiped his palms, a bit clammy, on his jeans. "Keith," he said, meaning to say something else entirely. "Uh, please. Keith. We don't stand on ceremony much."

"All right, then. But you must call me Allura in return."

Koran squirmed. He did not like this level of familiarity.

"Right, Princess. Allura." He glanced at his teammates. Lance looked amused. But Lance frequently looked amused. Keith decided to ignore him, since he was too far away to kick under the table. "We've been sent here, as you know, as an answer to your distress call to Galaxy Gar…"

"Please, Commander. I mean, Keith," Allura said sharply, cutting him off. "We're not here to talk about Galaxy Garrison. We want to discuss the real reason you're here." She sat back in her chair, waiting.

"The real reason?" he echoed, feeling a bit stupid. _Her eyes look just like the ocean at the Cape in summer…_ He shook his head. "You mean, the unofficial one?"

"Yes, Commander. That one."

Keith took a deep breath. "Voltron."

And then the castle alarms began shrieking.


	5. Chapter 5: I d Rather Kiss a Rodent

Author's note: Thanks to everyone for their reviews! Feedback is so encouraging. I've been trying to update regularly, and I will keep doing that. I have a feeling this is going to be a many-layered story. Just to give a head's-up, though, these next few days are going to be a bit hectic, so I may not be able to update daily for a little bit. In the meantime, though, feel free to leave any comments or ideas for plot and/or character development.

Playlist: Muse, live from Wembley Stadium, and some randomness such as: Great Northern, Arcade Fire, and Young Galaxy

The standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Five:

I'd Rather Kiss a Rodent

The conference room doors exploded open as members of the Royal Guard came running through. Allura was already up and running, and the Guard parted and closed ranks around her like a well-oiled machine. Keith and the others followed suit. He wasn't sure what was going on just yet, but he was a trained soldier and these people were badly under-manned. He had pledged to protect Arus and its Princess less than twenty-four hours before, but it looked like that oath was coming due now.

"Report!" Allura ordered, taking a seat at the main console, Koran sitting down right beside her. "What are we dealing with?"

"Fighters, lots of them," said the guard to her left. "And it looks like two transport ships, Princess."

Allura swore a most un-Princess like oath, which the surrounding guards pretended not to hear. She closed her eyes tightly, tempted to sag forward into the console. What could Zarkon hope to gain from yet another invasion of her wasted, almost deserted planet? But she knew the answer to that, looking around to meet the dark eyes of Commander Kogane. He knew it, too, remembering that one name left hanging between them before the alarms had sounded: Voltron. Zarkon wanted to capture the legend for himself, and if he could not have it, he would blast Arus into dust to make sure no one else could, either.

A world of meaning passed between them with that one look. Keith looked into the Princess's deep blue eyes and saw a young woman trying desperately to be the fighter her planet needed her to be. And she was a fighter, he had no doubt; but they both knew, in that quickly shared glance, that old the strategies weren't going to be enough this time. The evidence lay outside, in the wastelands that had once been a green and fertile planet, but was now reduced to rubble and dust.

"Orders, Princess?" Keith asked calmly.

Koran and the few remaining members of the Royal Guard who had stayed behind to man the control room and to guard the princess looked at him in surprise. Keith and the rest of his team had obtained weapons and stood together in a tight knot in the middle of the control room with the unmistakable bearing of military men.

"We aren't here for decoration, you know," Lance said, serious for once.

"We are pilots and fighters, damn good ones, your majesty, and we will not stand here while we're needed elsewhere," Sven added. Hunk simply stood, his massive size a testimony to the damage he could undoubtedly inflict. Even Pidge looked determined, one hand on his blaster, shoulders squared.

Allura began to rub her temples, her eyes still tightly shut. "Transport ships. That means ground troops. That's what we're really worried about. They are determined to invade the castle, to get underground, to the caves." She looked up at Keith, despair clear in her eyes. "When that happens, we're lost."

She had said "when," he noted, not "if." But he would not let that happen, none of them would. If they could get access to Voltron… he bit down on his frustration. She had been about to tell them, just before this attack...there had to be a way.

Koran began pulling up schematics on the console. "Drule fighters are providing cover for the ground invasion," he said, indicating the red dots moving in formation around the two massive transport vehicles that had now stopped moving and were disgorging row after row of Doom robot soldiers. "Unfortunately, many of our fighters were lost in Zarkon's last assault. He wiped out almost our entire air defense.'

"Robeast," Captain Der' Elison explained.

Koran continued. "We have a handful of fighters in the air now," he said, indicating a much smaller number of quickly moving blue dots moving in and around the red dots in almost no discernable pattern. Although they appeared to be taking out as many as three and four times their number, they were still badly outnumbered. Allura felt a stabbing pain in her heart each time a blue dot blinked out. She was so, so tired of losing this war.

_You're not losing, Princess. You've held out longer than anyone could ever have expected you too._

She looked around, surprised at the unexpected mind-to-mind communication. Keith was staring at her intently. Was he speaking to her? Before it had been mostly images he'd projected, that first time they had touched. Such clear, direct speech was shocking. Perhaps she was just picking up on his thoughts?

"Just give me a fighter," he said, voice low and determined.

"Every available fighter we have is in the air right now," Captain Der' Elison said. "All we can do is try to keep them from getting into the control room, and down into the caves."

Allura dropped her head into her hands, closing her eyes tightly. To Keith, it looked like an act of despair. He noted that the few people scattered across the control room seemed to lack organization; there appeared to be no real operational chain of command. "Princess?" he asked, trying to reach her. If anyone was in charge it was her, and she had her head buried in her hands right now. _Not good, not good, _he thought_. I hope she's not losing it. _

Allura was concentrating intently, trying to reach her father, the closest thing she had to prayer since she had made her pledge to the ancient goddess of Arus days before. _Father_, she said. _If now is the time, if these are the men, please, Father, help me do it…_

She took a deep breath. "Actually, Captain, that's not true." She exchanged a meaningful look with Koran. "We have four lions. Four of the five needed to form Voltron."

Explosions rocked the control room. The Royal Guard took up defensive positions around the room, rifles aimed at the massive titanium doors. Keith and his teammates already had their blasters out and aimed, when the three-dimensional image of the losing battle outside blinked completely out.

"Greetings, Princess," an amused, aristocratic drawl announced over the comm. system. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," the voice continued, before the image of a light-skinned, human-Drule hybrid dressed in full battle regalia replaced the battle scene. "I would so dearly love a moment of your time."

Princess Allura felt her gut clench. Eyes flashing, she rose half way out of her seat, gripping the edges of the console until her knuckles turned white. Keith noted the way the Captain of the Royal Guard edged closer to the princess, until he was directly behind her, rifle clearly in view, as if wanted to protect the princess from the image itself. He understood the feeling.

"Lotor," she growled. "I should have known."

Keith signaled to his team, the five of them falling back until they, too, encircled the princess, weapons aimed at the titanium doors that were now pounding with the pressure of explosives and gunfire.

Lotor's yellow eyes noted the presence of the princess's guardians. He did not look pleased. "_Prince_ Lotor, darling, in front of the help. We'll be calling each other by our first names soon enough. In _private_." He smirked.

Captain Der' Elison grabbed Allura by the arm, pulling her behind him to address the Prince. "State your business, you Drule scum," he snarled. "No one here will play your little games today."

"Good," replied the Prince. His teasing manner was gone now, replaced by a dangerous, channeled anger that Keith had seen before only on the battlefield. "Then you will be the first to die. My demands are simple. I will call off this invasion now, and Princess Allura will deliver herself and her planet to me willingly."

"Not going to happen, Lotor," she snapped.

"Then I will kill every last creature on your planet except for yourself, my dear, and take both you and Arus by force."

_Koran,_ she thought furiously at her advisor. _We have to get them to the lions. NOW. I'll stall him._

_But we only have the four…_ he thought back at her, worry etched on his already lined face.

_NOW, Koran,_ she all but screamed to him. Outwardly, she straightened herself and placed her hands calmly together where Lotor could see them.

"I need time to confer with my advisors," she said. "Give us twenty minutes."

_Trust me,_ she thought at Keith. She thought she saw his eyes narrow in concentration.

Der' Elison began to protest, but she cut him off with one sharp gesture. "Well?" she asked the Drule prince.

"You have ten." Keith recognized the look in his eyes. Madness. "And Allura, please do try and clean yourself up a bit. You look a bit… battle weary." He cut the connection, laughing.

Allura took one deep breath before turning to Keith and the rest of his team. "Come with me," she said, racing back into the conference room. They didn't waste a second following on her heels.

VVVVV

"Koran will take you to the Lions," she said, fingers running rapidly along the underside of the broad table where they had been sitting in what seemed like just a few minutes before. She found the spot she was looking for, pushed inward with two thumbs, and pulled a flat box out from under the table. She tossed the entire box to Keith.

"These will activate the Lions?" he asked.

She nodded. "Four keys. The fifth is… well, we're looking for it. Without it, without Black Lion, you can't form Voltron." Keith nodded. He knew. "Choose the four of you who will go." She reached up under the table where she had been sitting earlier and pulled out two blasters, clipping one onto the belt of her tunic and sliding the other one inside her black leather boot. She looked at Keith, and her blue eyes looked ancient. "I mean this when I say those Lions are our last hope. He won't be expecting you."

"And you, Princess?" he asked, concern warring with determination.

"The Guard and I will hold out as long as we can," she said softly. "You heard his demands. He won't kill me,"

"It won't come to that," Keith insisted.

"No, it won't," Captain Der' Elison said, placing himself between Keith and the princess. "I have pledged my life to her service. Every one of us will die to protect her."

Keith looked from the Captain to the princess. _So will I_, he vowed again.

"Pidge, stay with the Princess. See what you can do to reinforce the security systems." He flipped the box open and held it out to the rest of them. "Grab a key, boys. It's time to get airborne."

"Finally!" Lance yelled as they followed Koran. He gripped a red-edged key in his hand. "I was getting so bored, I was about to break out a crossword puzzle back there."

VVVVV

"Well?" the Drule prince demanded. He had reappeared exactly nine minutes and thirty seconds later. Allura had rearranged the Guard around her, hoping to make it appear that no one was missing. _Stall him._

Pidge had rerouted the team's comm. units directly to a single earpiece so that only he could hear his teammate's comments. He was the only one sitting at the command console, and he was nervously drumming his fingers, waiting.

_Stall him,_ she thought, well aware of the maniacal Drule prince's obsession with her. She began undoing her braid, stopping every few inches to untangle it with her fingers. "First, my Prince, let me apologize for my appearance." She had her braid half undone and rearranged the blond strands so that they hung over her shoulders. "I am quite, as you said, battle weary. I'm so sick of this war." Her hair was completely loose, now, reaching almost down to her waist. Lotor stood motionless, staring at her, transfixed. _Dangerous game. I'm baiting the tiger. Dammit, Keith, hurry up!_

From his console, Pidge made the gestures letting the room know the Lions were airborne. He wished he could switch the audio over to the whole room; Lance and Hunk were both whooping like little kids, bantering amongst themselves about who was taking out more Drule. Even Sven was excited, talking to himself in Norwegian. Only Keith kept calm, saying only, after calling out attack positions, "This is amazing. I feel like I'm flying with nothing but a metal skin between me and the earth and the sky." He sounded reverent.

Lotor's eyes narrowed to slits as he looked at the princess, _his_ princess. "I can see you've managed to resurrect four of your father's little kitties. Annoying, but of no consequence. Tell me, Princess, do you come to me willingly, or do I kill everyone and everything you hold dear?"

She felt her Captain of the Guard move up against her back. She smiled. Alex was such a kind, careful protector. She drew on his touch against her for courage. "Prince Lotor, I must admit, in the interest of full disclosure, that my heart is promised to another, and I cannot, therefore, come to you." Behind her, she felt Alex stiffen. Even Pidge looked interested, peeking at her.

Lotor's eyes narrowed again. "It does not matter. I'm still coming to get you. But, just out of curiosity, who is this soon-to-be dead man?"

Allura smiled brilliantly at him through her shining hair. "He's right here." The entire room was silent, waiting, as surprised as Lotor. "To prove our love, I'll kiss him now, before you and everyone."

Lotor's blue complexion developed a shade of violet as he held completely still. Allura lifted her carefully arranged hands to her face. "You see, Lotor, I cannot accept your offer because…" she moved her hands apart to reveal her pet mouse, Cheddar. "I would rather kiss a rodent," and she placed a quick kiss on her pet's head before letting him down, gently, to the ground.

She would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so dangerous. The sounds of battle raged just outside the control room. Still, she couldn't help but feel a bit smug. She could hear Pidge relaying the exchange to his teammates, and started to tell him to switch the comm. link so that everyone could hear the Lion pilots, when the titanium doors to the control room exploded open and she found herself staring directly at an angry Prince of Doom.

"You really shouldn't have done that, princess," he said, as his Drule soldiers poured into the control room around him.

VVVVV

"This is amazing!" Lance crowed for at least the twentieth time. "This baby has power!"

"Watch your seven, McClain," Keith commanded, as he launched torpedoes at two Drule fighters, destroying them both.

"Gotcha, Lance," Hunk said, picking the fighter off Lance with laser fire.

"It's like riding a tiger," Sven chimed in, blasting apart a line of Drule invaders streaming towards the castle.

"I have to agree with you there, Sven," Keith said. He was amazed at the speed and maneuverability of the Lions; they were already making a sizeable dent in the Drule forces. Lotor clearly hadn't been expecting much, if any, resistance. "Pidge?" he asked. "How are things going? Can you tell me?" but all he got was a babble of noise and weapons firing, which meant Pidge was no longer at the console. That could only mean one thing.

"Hunk, Sven, you two focus on cleaning up these fighters. Lance, you and I will take care of the transports and the ground troops. As soon as you reasonably can, meet back at the castle. I can't reach Pidge, and that has to mean the control room's been breached."

"Ok, Keith," both Sven and Hunk responded.

"Shit!" said Lance, and the four of them got to work.


	6. Chapter 6: Words Left Unsaid

Author's Note: This chapter contains scenes of the kind of violence associated with combat. Again, I personally do not think it warrants the "M" category; however, I do want to warn anyone who might be uncomfortable with "realistic" depictions of war. At the same time, I enjoyed writing this chapter. I learned a lot about the characters I am creating. I appreciate the encouragement from the reviews!

Playlist: Sia, "Breathe," Justin Timberlake, "What Goes Around…" and Muse's album "Black Holes and Revelations."

All standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Six:

Words Left Unsaid

Keith pulled back on the controls and felt the Green Lion shoot upwards as if it had been fired from a gun. He knew the situation on the ground, he knew how dire it was, but he couldn't keep himself from grinning. Flying the Lion was like riding liquid quicksilver; he had to remind himself, at times, that he was even sitting inside a machine at all. It would have been easy to close his eyes and imagine he was riding on the back of some mythical, but well-trained beast; the Lion responded so well and so instantly to his touch on the controls. He had never flown anything so fast, or anything that made him feel so free. The weaponry alone was unlike anything he had ever seen before, and he had been cleared to fly some pretty advanced, even experimental, aircraft back on Earth.

Lance flew his Lion in circles around his. Keith got the feeling that Lance wasn't so much trying to show off his piloting skills as he was pushing his machine to its limits, trying to get a sense of what it could do. "Hey, what can I say, Commander," Lance's voice echoed over the comm. system. "Kitty wants to play."

Lance shook his head with wonder as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He realized it was true; he felt as if, instead of flying a machine, he was the human occupant of a thing that had been locked up for way too long and was now glad to be free, to be airborne once more, and wanted nothing more than to use some Drule soldiers as chew toys. "Hell YES!" He screamed. "THIS is why I joined the damned Garrison."

They had already destroyed the two transport ships so thoroughly that they would be lucky to even qualify for the scrap heap. Keith and Lance were working fast and furiously to reduce the number of Drule robot fighters swarming around the remains of the castle. They had made good progress towards that end; the Drule had been greatly reduced in number. Keith could see, however, that a large knot of the robot soldiers had converged on a single craft: a sleek, silver fighter sitting close to the part of the castle that housed the main control room. Exactly the kind of thing a spoiled, wealthy prince would bring to a battle. It had to belong to Lotor.

"Hunk! Sven! How's it going up there?" Keith asked, analyzing the situation. Explosions and laser fire covered the ground surrounding the main control room; he knew that was where the main battle had shifted. He was afraid the Drule prince had already gained access to the area. Not only was Pidge not responding, but he also could see that the area was under heavy bombardment, of the type that would destroy even the reinforced titanium doors protecting the control room.

"We're about done up here, Keith," Hunk replied for both of them. "We've knocked out most of their fighters. The ones that are left up here seem to be focusing on you guys, so we're trying to cover you," he explained.

Keith's Lion twisted sideways and jumped as a line of laser fire rained down from above. "Yeah, I can see that," he said, teeth clenched as he gripped the controls.

Lance's Red Lion leaped gracefully over Keith's, exactly as if it had been a real cat, taking out a dozen Drule soldiers with one swipe of its massive metal claws.

"Hunk, do your best to take out those fighters. Lance and I going to have to clean out these Drules the hard way, hand to hand, and Sven, I want you down here and helping as soon as you can."

"Paw to paw, not hand to hand," Lance cut in.

"Yeah, ok, Lance, but however we do it, we've got to clear a way to the control room. It's been breached, and odds are that the owner of that sleek little space cruiser over there has made his way in. Pidge and the Princess are in there with that maniac." Keith closed his eyes, centering himself in the heat of battle, refusing to let the panic settle in as he cleared a mental space to visualize his next strategy. "Ok guys, I'm going to see if these kitties have an appetite for titanium walls." He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath as the strategy became clear to him. "Lance, I want you at my seven, Sven, at my four. Odds are this is going to get hand to hand once we're in. Be prepared to leave the lions and give them all we've got."

VVVVV

The doors to the control room exploded inward. Flying chunks of metal and debris rained down upon the occupants. Pidge ducked underneath the main console, pulling the chair he had been sitting in after him to seal himself off as best he could from any more debris. A large shard of glass from the original explosion had lodged itself deeply into his chest. A series of smaller explosions and rounds of gunfire drowned his cry of pain out. Small even for his age, Pidge wedged himself tightly into the corner of the tiny space underneath the console as Drule soldiers came pouring in. The shard was buried deeply; he gritted his teeth and tried to pull it out, managing not to cry out with the pain. He pressed on the wound firmly in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood, then doubled over as he went into shock, not knowing if it was because of the pain, the fear, the loss of blood, or all three. Battling nausea and dizziness, he tried to make himself stay alert. He still had his blaster. The earpiece connecting him to the rest of the team had come loose and was lying inches from him on the floor. He made a grab for it, thinking it might come in handy, when he pitched back on his side into the recess of the console. _Lost too much blood_, he thought sluggishly. _Hope I can make it_….and everything went dark.

Captain Der' Elison wrapped his arms around the princess, dropping to the ground on his side, trying to take the brunt of the impact even as he used his body to shield her from the flying metal and glass. Once on the ground, he pushed her firmly to the floor, pinning her, providing cover with his body while she struggled underneath him.

"Let me up," she hissed. "I can fight. I'm armed."

"Princess. Allura." He tried to sound calm as he spoke into her ear. "I am going to protect you from that madman if I die trying." Alexander Der' Elison had a sudden vision of his young wife, years before, crying out to him as she was being dragged away from him by Drule soldiers. Her wide, frightened eyes had sought his out as one of them forced her head up by pulling brutally on her hair, hair that he had been running his fingers through just hours before, standing behind her at the sink while she washed the dishes. He had loved her hair. He was lying facedown in the dirt outside their burning home, a rifle pointed between his shoulder blades while a young, light-skinned Drule held him down with a boot pressed into his lower back. He tried to rise, to roll over and fight, but the Drule had laughed, stomping into his back with his boot. His wife had twisted free of them then, somehow, and had tried to run to him, only to be caught again. He watched as they struck her, again and again; what happened next was the subject of his worst nightmares.

He tried not to think of it during his daylight hours, to think instead of her smile, or her love of nature, or the way she tucked her hair behind her ears when she was nervous. Anything but his final vision of her, struggling, fruitlessly, against four or five Drule soldiers. The one holding him down, bored, perhaps, had shot him in the back and left him for dead. It was many years later, after recovering from his wounds and joining the Royal Guard, that he learned that the Drule holding him down had been a young Prince Lotor. Zarkon had given him an easy assignment, to attack, pillage, rape, and kill as many inhabitants of his Arusian village as he could. It had been a mere training exercise for the Prince, that single event that had forever changed his life.

Underneath him, Princess Allura stilled. "Protect me by fighting with me, Alex, not by keeping me helpless," she said. He knew she was right, as much as he wanted to lay with her underneath him, shielding her, protecting her, for the rest of what might turn out to be a very brief life.

"Alright, Princess. I'm going to roll over and let you up. Make sure you have your blaster and stay behind me at all times." He tensed himself to rise, looking down at the princess one last time. So young. So fragile. "Know this, though, Princess. The fate of women in war is often worse than death. Do not give in to that mad man." He had protected her, been her constant guardian, for years now, and as she lay underneath him, he leaned in close, burying his head in her sweet smelling hair. "Allura," he murmured. She looked at him, surprised not by the display of intimacy, but by the final dark certainty in his eyes. "I joined the Royal Guard to protect Arus against that bastard Drule prince who killed my wife." Her eyes widened. She had not known. "But I stayed to protect you. I never told you, princess. Allura, I love…"

Alexander Der' Elison, Captain of the Arusian Royal Guard, never completed his sentence, his breath cut short as a bluish-white lazon sword cut cleanly through his back. Allura watched as his eyes grew dimmer until the light faded entirely. She felt his blood, still warm, flowing onto her back, where he still lay on top of her, trying to protect her from the very man who had succeeded, after many years, in ending his life.

"Alex," she whispered, as if still talking to him, her mind refusing to process the event. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry," she said, and began sobbing. "How sad, your poor wife…"

Lotor, still gripping his lazon sword, carelessly kicked the Captain's body aside. He used the same bloody boot to roll Allura over so that he towered directly over her. What she saw in his face frightened her more than all the Robeasts unleashed on Arus within the last year. Bloodlust, pure and simple, marked his features, but he looked at her also with a strange kind of tenderness, perhaps even pity. What was he going to do to her that could possibly make him feel pity, for her? She shuddered.

Lotor leaned down, supporting his weight on one knee. "He touched you," he said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation for what had just happened. "No one touches you. No one but me."

"He was protecting me, from you! You're a murderer, you destroyed his village, murdered his wife… and he was a good man! He was always kind to me, and protected me, against horrible men like you…." Allura couldn't stop herself. As the events around her began to sink in, she became hysterical, sobbing and trying to speak at the same time. Lotor watched her impassively for a moment, as if he was seeing a rare species of butterfly, or something equally rare, for the first time. Then he raised his gloved hand and slapped her across the face. Her head rocked back, crashing against the floor, and she felt her lip split open.

"Don't ever praise another man to me. Not ever." He hit her again, just as hard, and when her head hit the ground a second time, her vision blurred and grayed over.

"You made me do it, Allura," he whispered. "It's your fault he's dead. You should never have let him touch you." Her blurred vision could just make out his yellow eyes, hovering over her face. He caressed her cheek with the same hand that had just struck her. "You are so beautiful. Don't make me hurt you anymore." He reached down and gathered her up as if she weighed nothing at all, cradling her to his chest.

He turned to a Drule officer standing several feet away. She saw that the remaining members of her Guard had been forced to their knees, hands tied behind their backs. "Hush, now, darling, it's almost over," he whispered to her softly. "Kill them," he told his officer. She watched, gathered in his arms, barely hanging on to consciousness, as Drule soldiers stepped forward and shot every last remaining member of the Arusian Royal Guard in the back of the neck.

VVVVV

Keith stared in horror at the scene that greeted him as Green Lion tore through the walls to the main control room as if they were made of aluminum foil. He was just in time to see the Royal Guard pitch forward, shot execution-style in the back of the neck. Rage burned its way through him, and as he clenched his fingers around the control bar, trying to rein in his emotions, his Lion suddenly let out an ear-shattering roar. Lance in the Red Lion and Sven in the Blue ripped through the titanium walls to flank him on each side. His first, frantic thought was that they were too late; he quickly scanned the room, looking for the princess and Pidge with the sharp taste of fear in the back of his throat.

He was almost grateful when he saw the princess hanging limply from an enraged Lotor's arms, a feeling that changed quickly to fear again as he realized Pidge was nowhere to be seen.

"Lance, Sven," he said, white hot fury plain in his voice, "Clean up this mess of Drule scum. Use the Lions. I'm going after Lotor. Alone," he added, before either of his teammates could protest. He climbed out of Green Lion, keeping one hand on his blaster. He tried to reason with himself that it was safer for everyone if he went after Lotor alone, but some primal part of his mind knew that wasn't true. He had failed to save any of her guard, but he would not fail with her.

The Red and Blue Lions bit and clawed their way through the ranks of Drule soldiers left in the room. Most, upon the appearance of the Lions, had already run outside, trying to escape. Hunk, however, had finished with the aerial clean up and was ready and waiting to take care of the fleeing ground troops.

"Lotor!" Keith said loudly, stepping out from behind Green Lion. "You'd better not have hurt her."

"Well, if it isn't the escaped space explorer. One of my father's slaves," he sneered. "Do you think your new Lion toy will erase that brand on your arm?"

"Put her down, Lotor," Keith said, moving slowly and carefully towards Lotor and the princess, hands in clear view, but within easy reach of the weapons on his belt.

The Drule prince's yellow eyes narrowed. "And why should I do that, _slave_?" he asked. "She is mine by rights, as a spoil of war." He motioned toward the body of Alex Der' Elison with his head. "You can see what happened to the last man who got between me and what is rightfully mine."

Keith saw the body of the Captain, noting the lazon sword cut across his back. He stifled any grief he felt. He couldn't afford grief right now. There would be time for it later. He hoped. He reached down and pulled free his own lazon sword from his belt. It was a bit old fashioned of him to carry one; they hadn't been Garrison regulation weaponry for years now. But years of martial arts training had made him an expert at the use of the _kitana_, and the lazon sword was the closest and most practical substitute for the curved _kitana_ blade in a battle.

He also looked more closely at the princess, trying to assess her condition. The extent of her injuries would make a major difference in his attack strategy. Her face was bruised, she had one black eye and the other was swollen shut, and her lip was split and bleeding. His gut seethed. The Drule prince had hit her, and hard; Keith Kogane had a special hatred for men who hit women. The princess was lying limply against Lotor's chest, and he simply couldn't ignore the possibility that she had deeper, undetectable injuries. That was going to make things hard. _Easy, Keith. Head over heart for now._ "She belongs to herself, Lotor," Keith said. "Why don't you quit hiding behind her and fight like a man of honor, instead of a coward who beats the women he hides behind?"

Lotor sneered at him. "What would you know about honor, _slave_?"

"I know that I can beat you, way worse than you beat her, Drule scum," he sneered, pouring every ounce of rage and contempt he felt into his challenge. "And I know I can do it without hiding behind the helpless and without an army at my back. That is what I know of honor."

Behind him, Sven and Lance watched quietly, having cleared the room of any remaining Drule soldiers. Keith saw, with a sinking feeling, that Lance and Sven had managed, somehow, to find the youngest member of their team. Pidge lay on the ground between the two men; Lance had removed his jacket and was using it to apply pressure to a nasty looking wound on Pidge's chest. Sven gave Keith a slight nod, and he knew, then, that Pidge was alive. Hunk had also exited his Lion and was standing by Lotor's sleek fighter, effectively blocking the Prince's only escape route. Realizing that he no longer had the upper hand, Lotor snarled and placed the princess at his feet. "Very well, slave. It seems you need a lesson to remember your place." Lotor, sword extended, backed swiftly towards his ship. "I look forward to teaching you, very soon," he said. He pulled his blaster from his belt so that he had a weapon in both hands. Hunk, moving to intercept him before he got to his fighter, managed to barely move out of the way as Lotor shot him with the blaster. As Hunk crumpled to the ground, Lotor made it to his fighter and was airborne in a matter of moments.

Keith, seething with rage, put his sword away. Lotor, unfortunately, was right; today was not the day. The princess lay senseless on the floor; he gathered her carefully in his arms. _Be all right, Allura,_ he thought, unsure if he was thinking or praying. _It's ok, you're safe now._

Lance had a white, lifeless-looking Pidge in his arms. Sven stood up with an unconscious Hunk over his shoulder, staggering a bit, but bearing up. "He has a pulse," Sven told them. "The blast missed his chest."

"Get them down to the caves _now_, to the Med Center," Keith said, looking around at the carnage. Lance and Sven were ahead of him, moving swiftly. He looked at the woman in his arms. She stirred slightly, murmuring, before she opened her eyes to his. His heart clenched at what he saw there. Her eyes were full of such pain, such grief…

"How did he hurt you?" he asked, in a choked voice, afraid of the answer.

She shook her head mutely, eyes filling with tears. "He hit me. So hard. I think I cracked my head on the floor. He told me it was all my fault. But Alex. He killed Alex." She sobbed, choking, as she tried to talk at the same time. "He was trying to protect me…. He told me it was my fault… because I let Alex touch me…" she sobbed harder, hysterical now. "But I didn't, I swear, he was just shielding me, from the explosions, but then he told me… he told me…" she broke down completely, burying her battered face in his chest. "He tried to tell me he loved me, and then he died." Keith sank to the floor, knowing now that her injuries were not internal, and gathered her close. He just held her, letting her cry it out. Later, when he was alone, locked in the room they had assigned him, he might do the same, but for now, he stroked her hair, whispering to her that she was ok, it was over, he would never let Lotor touch her again.

"He said… Lotor said… that I was making him hurt me, that I was making him do those awful things," she cried. "And all of them died. All of the Guard. I watched it happen. Alex, he… they protected me…they're all gone now…"

Keith took her face between his hands. "It's not your fault." She looked back at him through her blackened eye, not believing him. He said it again. "It's not your fault, Allura. Lotor is a mad man. It's not your fault." He gathered her close against him, lifting her up to carry her to the Med Center. "You have a new Guard now, and we won't let anything happen to you. Sven, Lance, Hunk… with those Lions, Arus is a force to be reckoned with again. We'll find the fifth Lion, and then, with Voltron... your planet will be green again, and safe."

"But what about you?" she asked, her tear-stained face buried in his chest.

"Of course, me. I'll be there, Allura. I'll protect you from that maniac as best as I am able, my entire team will." His voice broke, but he had to say it. "I won't let Alex down. I'll be there for you, just like he was," he promised. He thought about the Captain, about what he had tried to tell Allura, and knew he was making more than one promise to the princess in his arms.


	7. Chapter 7: Everybodys Waiting

Author's note: I loved writing this chapter, although there is a good deal of angst in it. I suppose that says something about me? At any rate, it will not stay angst-ridden, I promise. Thanks for the reviews and encouragement, especially to Mertz, who has been an inspiring writer as well as reviewer.

Playlist: "Waiting," by The Devlins. If this chapter had a theme song, this would be it. Also played The Who's Greatest Hits really loud. Odd mix, but hey, if it works…

Chapter Seven:

Everybody's Waiting

Pidge

_When I looked down and saw that piece of glass, I wasn't really surprised. It looked like a shard of some long crystal sword from those comic books I like to read had broken off in my chest. The magical ones that the bad guys carry around. Hurt like hell, too, worse than being branded. It's funny, because that's probably one of the ways, if I got to choose, that I'd like to go: like a comic book hero, fighting evil, fighting for my friends, fighting to impress some girl who actually liked me back, fighting for some important but impossible to define ideal like freedom or liberty or truth or justice._

_None of those words have any meaning to me now. The one word that sticks with me, the last thing I remember before coming to this place, this place where everything is dark and calm and nothing hurts, is fear. It's easier to see things here, to see them clearly. One thing that's clear to me now is how much a part of my life that word has been._

_Fear. I've been afraid my whole life. I was afraid that my dad left because of me, and that what Mom meant when I asked her why and she said, "Honey, we were just too young," was that I had come along and complicated things. Messed it up for them. Who wants to be taking care of a kid in their twenties, anyhow? And I felt fear when my mom got sick and knew that there was no one else for her in the whole world but me. Fear that I couldn't do anything about it except watch her waste away because I was only eight years old. And I couldn't._

_And then the group home was almost nothing but fear. I was always the youngest and the smallest and the smartest. Bad combination. The other boys didn't have the best home lives and stories either, obviously. But instead of it bringing us closer together, similarities like that, important ones, like parents that had died or left or disappeared, it turned us inward on ourselves, like some kind of weird cannibalism of the soul. There was fighting and bullying and theft, but I was smart, and little for my age, and while that worked against me a lot of the time, I developed almost this sixth sense about my well-being. I knew when a big fight was coming, or when somebody had it out for me; it's like I could smell it in the wind, and I knew that was the day to go find a quiet place to read or sneak down to the basement where I collected old broken things and built things with them. _

_Now, here in this dark place where I don't hurt, but I can remember the blast in the control room, where I know I wasn't able to get to my blaster, where I know my instinct led me to crawl into a small place, I wonder: is that self-preservation, or fear? And just how far away from that line is cowardice?_

_But it's funny that I've never been able to know about the good things in the same way. Good things take me completely by surprise. I don't trust them. They beckon you out of your hiding place, into the light, but there are always shadows just beyond the sun…_

_I wasn't able to see the good in Mr. Howard at first. He taught math and science at the group home. He wore these thick glasses, just like mine, and he always showed up kinda wrinkled and scatter-brained. The other kids made fun of him. But I just buried myself into the books and the computer programs, and pretty soon, he was talking to me pretty regular. He'd ask me to stay after class, and I made the other boys think I'd gotten into some kind of trouble, so I didn't have to take any of their crap about being a teacher's pet. After school, he set up all these kinds of programs I'd never seen before- things that actually challenged me, made me think. He talked to me about the future, about what kind of life I could have outside of the group home, and always there was some new program or game. I loved the logic of it, the way there was always some kind of problem to solve or get around or over, but that there was a way, if I just kept chasing it. It felt good to chase towards something rather than run from something. _

_One day he sat me down and talked to me about leaving the home. Some of those programs and games had been tests of some kind, and my scores were such that some people at some very good schools were interested in me. They were willing to let me go to school for free, if I was willing, and the only hard part was deciding which one to go to. I chose the Space Academy. I guess it was reading all those comic books. _

_The only bad thing about leaving the group home was leaving Mr. Howard. I still wonder what happened to him sometimes. Now that I've seen real fighting and dying and torture, I know Mr. Howard was one of the only people I could call a hero, just like from one of my comic books. He kept going back to that dismal place, day after day, putting up with all that crap from those awful boys, hoping to help the one or two who were like me, who had a chance and wanted to get out. I know sometimes he hated it and sometimes he was afraid, but he went and did it anyway. Maybe that's all courage is, not an absence of fear, but feeling the fear anyway and going ahead and doing whatever you're supposed to do. _

_I know, in this dark place where I find myself, I finally have a choice. My mom comes to visit me here sometimes. She talks to me about choices, and I talk to her about my life after her, short as it's been, and about how since coming here I can see that I let myself be caught up in being afraid. She listens to me, and she agrees with me about Mr. Howard, that he was a real hero, and that I didn't believe her and wouldn't for a long time, but that I am one too. She tells me fear is all right, because I go ahead and do the next right thing anyway, and that all those big tough soldiers who came to Arus with me are just as afraid, and when I get to know them a little better, they'll tell me so themselves. _

_She says I can't stay, not with her, in the dark calm where things don't hurt. She won't let me. She made me promise her I would go back and live the life she couldn't anymore, that I would read some more comic books and ride my Lion and learn to love nature and have pets and fall in love and that I would grow old and have grandchildren for her to watch from wherever we are right now, that I would learn to trust in the good things and that there are good people and that I don't have anything to hide from anymore. I promised her, even though it would be easier, and nice, in a way, to stay here in the dark and the calm where nothing ever hurts and she is here with me. I think it will be a hard promise to keep, but I will keep it as best I can. _

_Hunk_

_Man, I hate blaster burns. They sink in through your skin right down to your bones, making you feel like you've got liquid fire down in the center of you somewhere. I know something's different about this one, though, because I'm still down and out. I still hurt, bad, but it's like the hurt can't make it all the way up to my brain, like I know it's there but I'm floating above it. Floating. Yeah. That's it exactly. They must have me doped to the gills because I can't move either, not even an eyelid or a pinky finger, and if I hear any sounds at all, it's like they're coming to me very slowly from far away. Like I'm encased in a solid block of jello. I wonder if they have jello on Arus. _

_I can hear people calling my name sometimes, while I'm up here floating above the pain, but they're the wrong damn people. I hear Keith and Lance and Sven sometimes, and that's nice, but I don't hear the other voices I want to hear. Where's the little one? Pidge was nowhere around when I went after Lotor…_

_And the princess? What the hell happened to her? I hate floating here when I feel like there's business to finish. Those Lions. They are some piece of work. People forget, because of my size, about my hands. I have magic hands. There's nothing I can't fix, nothing too small or too tangled or too far gone for me to find a way to put it back together. Machines are like that; they're easy to understand. Not like people. Well, most people, anyway. Machines are patient with me. They wait with me while I figure out their secrets, find out what it is they need, and then fix them up. I can't wait to get my hands on those Lions. _

_With people it's harder. At least, the people here on Arus. Everyone's so sad and marked by loss. I'm used to loud, happy people who don't hide what they feel. I came from a huge family, and I don't just mean all of us are big people, which we are. Hell, my two older brothers are half a foot taller than me. Called me "Shorty" when we were growing up, at least until I got big enough to kick their assess for it. Then they let up a little. My mom and dad just loved each other, everything about them showed it, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched; hell, even the way they stood next to each other screamed out how much they loved each other. And that translated into a bunch of kids. Six of us. Five boys and one girl, and damned if my sister Suki isn't the most spoiled girl in the world. But I guess that's pretty normal, all things considered. _

_But here on Arus, it's like everyone I meet has a part of their heart missing. Everybody's lost somebody. The poor princess, with no parents or siblings or even cousins. Koran with his dead wife and son. That Captain, with his wife gone, and now he's gone to join her. Even my teammates- Pidge, at least, I know came from an orphanage when he lost his Mom. So much pain. All that's left of the population is a few adults, and lots and lots of orphans. An entire generation will grow up on this planet not knowing what it's like to wake up in a house where you share a bedroom with two other brothers, and you can hear your mother making breakfast, and one of your brothers is yelling at your sister to hurry up and get out of the bathroom and stop hogging all the hot water…_

_When I get outta here I'm going to do something about that. I know the best thing I can do is keep any more of them from getting killed, so thank God for those Lions and for Voltron. But maybe there's something else. I can teach them games, at least. And I can carry a bunch of kids on my back, being so big. Maybe I can build them something, too, like some toys at least, and a place to play…and if we can ever get regular supply routes restored, well then, my Mom would flip out over all these parentless kids, organize some kind of charity drive back at the temple back home, get all kinds of stuff sent here.... if I can ever get out of this block of jello…_

_Allura_

_How can you tell when someone loves you? Is it in the way they stay with you, always, protecting you from danger, even when it isn't there? And when it is there, is it love when they throw themselves in the way, taking blaster burns and stabbings and tumbles down stairs in your stead?_

_Is it love when you sneak away from the caves, mad to see the sun, and he follows you, far away, to give you privacy, but close enough if you need him? Is it love when you walk down the corridors at night, like you know you're not supposed to, but you do anyway, because you can pretend your parents are still alive and everything is all right? Is it love when you do these things, and he lets you, and even understands why you do them, and never tells a soul? _

_I feel like such an awful person. I never knew, Alex. I had a little crush on you. How could I not? I am eighteen years old, and you are the only man they've ever allowed close to me. My daring, handsome protector who rushed in when I was in danger and saved me, every time? Every time but that last…_

_I didn't even know about your wife. Is it because you wanted to protect me from it, or because I was too stupid and selfish to ask? Or was it because what you had with her was real love, and you wanted to keep that one thing for yourself? If that's so, how could you love me? How did you love me? What kind of love? How many kinds of love are there? You'll never tell me, now, and I was too stupid or too selfish to ask. Next time, if there ever is a next time, I will ask, Alex, I swear it. With the next man who loves or is loved by me, I will not let the words go unsaid. When you died you taught me that._

_And what about Lotor? When he was hitting me, he had the strangest look on his face, like it really hurt him to hurt me. Is that what he thinks love is, to kill for your beloved? To hurt her because somehow it's for her own good? I believed him when he said he was hurting me because I was making him. Everyone in that room died because of me. If I had just gone with him…_

_Everything about me feels raw. Nothing inside me is injured but everything feels broken. I just want to lie here, curled up into a ball, and never leave Med Center. Sometimes I cry, but I only have one eye to do it out of, thanks to Lotor, and it frightens the people here trying to take care of me. One eye I can't see out of, and one black and puffy red eye I keep shut most of the time. I won't eat. My lip is torn on one side where Lotor hit me, and it had to be sewn back together. I feel like I'll never want food again. I keep staring at the same patch of wall. I hug myself with my knees to my chest and look at the green walls with the diamond-patterned tiles. There are fifty-six of them that I can see with my one eye. _

_Sometimes people come to talk to me, cover me with blankets, and smooth my hair. Whenever someone touches me I start to shake. Tears leak out of my one good eye and sometimes I whimper. I know I scream in my sleep. I wake up and my throat is raw and my lip is sore from screaming. If you can call it sleep. They give me shots, sometimes, and I fall away into darkness, except I keep seeing him above me, with the light fading from his eyes, my name just leaving his lips. Sometimes I see them all, falling over, blood spilling on the floor. Sometimes I see yellow eyes and heavy fists… Today they stuck needles in me because I won't eat or drink. I don't care. _

_The one who comes the most is Keith. I don't mind him being here. I like it, even. He knows, somehow, where I am in my head. If it scares him he doesn't show it. He knows not to touch me, or ask me questions. Mostly he just sits in a plastic chair that creaks when he sits down, and I like that. I know exactly how it sounds when he sits in that chair. I've learned his smell. He smells like soap, but underneath that, his skin smells just a little spicy, a little like oranges and what I imagine sunshine must smell like. When they come to try to make me eat, or to change my gown, or have a bath, or stick me with a needle, I start to shake, and he steps outside, but I know that if I wanted to, I could call him, call out his name, and he would come running. He's waiting. Waiting for me to make up my mind if I want to continue to be the Princess of Death and Destruction. But I don't have to decide now. I am waiting, too. _

_I had a dream the other night, not one brought on by needles and their drugs. I was outside, on the surface of Arus, and it was green like Keith had shown me. A woman was there with me, with red hair that waved and flowed in the breeze like flames. She had five lions sitting at her feet, and each one was on a chain. "I am waiting," she said. "I am waiting for you to rise up and fight. You promised me. You promised your life to my service, to cleanse our planet of the evil that plagues us." She let slip all the lions but the biggest one, and she handed his chain to me. "He is waiting, too, waiting for you to find him and claim him. He has been waiting for you since the stars were born." She stepped back, then, and I saw that she was under the lion arch that still stands outside the castle. The sun came up behind her in a brilliant orange orb, and the lion statue on top of the arch crumbled into dust, and my lion licked my hand and jumped up on top of the arch and roared. I knew, then, what the goddess had come to tell me. I know where the fifth Lion is. And I know who will pilot it. He sits near me now, waiting. _

_I roll over for the first time since they brought me here. I am still curled into a ball. He suddenly becomes very still. I can almost hear his muscles tensing. My mouth opens and only sobs come out. "Keith," I say, my vocal cords sore from screaming and disuse. He is there in an instant, on the bed with me, holding me in his arms as I cry. I feel his hands in my matted hair, holding me, rocking me. I feel him shaking, too, as he cries into my shoulder._

"_Allura," he says, and my name comes from his lips as if he is breathing for the first time after being deep underwater. He has more to say, I know, but I also know words are hard for him. My name is enough, for now. Later, I will have words with him. I will not let important things go unsaid. Alex taught me that._

_But for now, I must tell him something. I slide one of my hands to the back of his neck, surprised by how weak I am. "Keith," I whisper into his ear. I love saying his name. "Keith. I know where the Black Lion is." _

_He looks at me, as if that is the last thing he ever thought I'd say. He's still waiting, I can see. I don't know if the time is right, or if it ever will be, and I have decided: I am sick of waiting. So I twine my other hand in his black hair and bring my lips to his. Something moves, deep within us both, and he pulls me up against him, his kisses on my torn lip light as feathers, soft as a warm breeze on a safe, green Arus._


	8. Chapter 8: Camelot Rising

Author's note: That last chapter almost gave me an emotional hangover. As far as this one goes, it's long, and just remember, I did promise Keith some competition… Thanks to all the excellent authors from this site who have given me advice and encouragement. It's amazing to have been a fan of your stories, and then to get feedback and encouragement from some of my favorite authors, including Xia Cheyenne, Mertz, Wade Wells, KittyLynn…

Playlist: "Sleepdriving," by The Archives; "Signs of Love," by Moby; "Crazy," by Seal; "Graduation Day" by Chris Isaak, to name a few….

And once again, all the standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Eight:

Camelot Rising

Lance stood in the hallway of the Med Center, watching Pidge, who was hooked up to a breathing machine, through the doorway. He couldn't quite make himself go all the way into the room. He wasn't sure why. He'd been that way with all of them, visiting them constantly over the last several days, but hovering in the background, watching, drifting in and out of rooms, sitting in chairs, at bedsides, nodding off in corners, for a little while, but then, he'd be back to pacing the halls and watching through doorways. No one could say he wasn't attentive. One of the nurses, when asked if he could carry Allura's dinner tray to her room, joked with him about how he was trying to put them all out of a job. He brought pillows, cups of water and juice, reading material, blankets, and then, after a few minutes in any given hospital room, was back to pacing the hall and peeking in doorways. The others, he thought, chalked it up to him being naturally restless, but he knew that wasn't it, not entirely. He knew it was about thresholds and borders, and that a part of him was caught, already tied to these injured people and the ones who kept vigil by their bedsides. He was trapped and tied, and although he didn't really understand how it had happened or why, the part of him who'd spent almost his entire life running from responsibility, from roots of all kinds, was completely unsure of how to deal with it.

He hated hospitals. They made his skin crawl. _Who doesn't hate a hospital, though_? he wondered. People sick, dying, worrying and grieving over others. He did remember one single happy occasion. Thinking way back into his own childhood, he had dim memories of his sister being born, and how happy that had made everyone. It was one huge damn party that day, he remembered, smiling a little at the memory. His father had even sprayed the attending physician with champagne. That had been a first for the poor old guy. In spite of all the ways he had turned out to be a disgrace to the McLain name, partying sure wasn't one of them.

He cleared his throat, trying to get Sven's attention. The big Norwegian hadn't left Pidge's side much over the last several days, since the "ordeal," as Lance had begun to think of it, had ended with half their team critically injured. Both Hunk and Pidge had to be revived more than once, their hearts stopped completely by their injuries. Allura seemed a little better, but she still wasn't eating or talking much. He stifled his anger and his urge to pace some more. That had been the day this war had gotten really, really personal.

Sven didn't even look up from his dog-eared copy of _The Catcher in the Rye_. "No, Lance, I do not want a drink, or a blanket, or a pillow, and if you ask me that one more time within the next hour I will rearrange your face so that you won't be able to ask me anything for the next several days," he said calmly, even congenially, before turning another page in his novel. "Why don't you go check on the others _again_? I promise to call you first thing if there's any change." The dark Norwegian turned yet another page, never looking up from his book. "I bet Hunk would really appreciate a pedicure, you know…"

"Screw you, Sven," Lance said cheerfully, but not before stepping nervously into the room to look over the stats on the datapad beside Pidge's bed. They meant nothing to him, really, but seeing that they had stayed the same for over twenty-four hours now made him feel better. "I'm going to tell Hunk you said that, by the way," he said, heading out the door.

VVVVV

The atmosphere in Princess Allura's room had brightened considerably over the last few days. While Dr. Gorma had been able to get Pidge stabilized, Hunk had been gradually awakened from his medically-induced stasis, allowing his body to resume normal functions slowly, without putting too much strain on his heart. The largest member of their team sat on the Princess's bed, talking to her about his family back home on Earth, about his little sister, what it was like being the middle child in a large family, and about life in his small hometown. Allura sat and listened, interested in hearing about day-to-day life in a place other than Arus. The most shocking thing was that Allura was actually sitting up in bed, with Hunk at her back, pulling a brush gently through her long blonde hair. His huge fingers held the brush steadily with one hand while the other deftly untangled one tiny section of impossibly golden hair at a time, working the brush from the bottom of her waist-length tresses one section at a time up towards the crown of her head. Allura leaned forward in the bed, hugging her knees. Hunk, seeing Lance's open-mouthed stare, just shrugged and said, "Suki had longer hair than the Princess's, even. With so many of us, Mom couldn't always stop what she was doing to help her with it, and Suki fussed less when I did it for her. She said I had the steadiest hands of all of them."

Keith smiled at Hunk. "That would explain why you're such a good mechanic, with all the practice you got with your little sister. I bet pulling on her hair was worse than getting shocked by a live wire." That was just like Keith, to not only refrain from teasing Hunk, like Lance had been about to do, but to turn a potentially embarrassing situation into an asset. Still, Lance felt a brief stab of envy, as Hunk ran his nimble fingers through the hair of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life. That she was also the most damaged and fragile woman he had ever seen only made the scene that much more compelling. _Lotor, you are so screwed,_ he thought, angrily, getting a look at the princess's battered face as she peeked up through the curtain of gold.

"I never had any brothers or sisters to help with that sort of thing," Allura said sadly. "And Nanny always pulls too hard." She closed her eyes again, holding still for Hunk. Lance thought Keith looked fiercely protective, his normally stoic commander watching Hunk's hands move over Allura as if he were ready to storm Planet Doom single-handedly. The Princess still looked like hell. Her black eye had faded to a sickly, yellowish-green color, while the other one, swollen shut courtesy of Lotor, was covered with a white bandage. The eye was healing nicely, but Dr. Gorma didn't want to risk exposing it to the light too soon. There was some concern that the princess's vision might have been permanently affected. The stitches had come out of her lip two days ago, leaving a bandage in their place. The tear in her lip, they had been assured, would gradually heal into a thin scar. Lance felt his anger boil up. Again. He locked eyes with Keith, and was surprised by the fury he saw in his commander's eyes, black rage brought on by the contrast between the princess's smooth golden hair and her ravaged face.

It wasn't just her physical features that had been marred by Lotor's savage attack, but her emotional ones, as well. She had only just begun eating again. The I.V. had come out yesterday, after three days of eating and drinking like a normal person. But she still screamed in her sleep. More than once, Lance had been awakened as he dozed in a chair in her room to the sounds of screaming, only to look into the dark eyes of his commander sitting across from him, Keith's knuckles white from gripping the sides of the chair he rarely left. They had learned not to try to wake her from the screaming nightmares; doing so only made her thrash and fight whoever touched her, until a nurse rushed in to give her a sedative. Lance knew he and Keith weren't concerned about themselves, but rather that, locked in her own private nightmares, touching her would damage her somehow, might make her dream of Lotor, or of being pinned beneath a dying man….

Lance shook himself, trying to banish his grim thoughts. "Anybody need anything?" he asked, already knowing the answer as he moved to stand in the doorway. He thought about thresholds and boundaries. He didn't know when or why he had crossed this one, but he knew Allura had gained a roomful of protectors on the day the Captain and the rest of her guard died. _Her knights_, he thought, darkly amused as he looked down at himself. _A princess's knight in a battered leather jacket._ He turned to begin another round of pacing when he ran straight into Koran.

The older man looked haggard and worried. He spared no time for greetings or pleasantries, unusual for the diplomat. During the battle, he had been locked behind the barricades into the underground shelters themselves, trying desperately to pull together one last defense in case Lotor's forces broke through. He even had Nanny armed and waiting to fight Drule. Since then, Koran had been trying to cope with running a planet that had lost almost its entire army, calming citizens, bearing the bad news to those who had lost yet another loved one…. And all this on top of the damage done to the young woman who had become his surrogate daughter. The man looked to be on the verge of collapse himself.

"Lieutenant, excellent. Gather the others who are up and about. The time has come to discuss the future of Arus, and I am almost afraid to tell you this, but you and your teammates are inextricable involved now. We have intelligence that Zarkon is readying for another attack, and you and your teammates are the only defensive force we have left."

VVVVV

Keith was the last one left in the Princess's room once the others had followed Koran out of Med Center and into the conference room off the command center. Dr. Gorma had hastily cleared Hunk to leave and assigned a nurse to sit with a still unconscious Pidge; Keith stood in the doorway of Allura's room, looking at the princess as she sat on the edge of her bed, her slippered feet making small, forlorn circles in the air. Neither one of them said anything. Allura looked at the floor, while Keith stared back at her, his heart in his throat and his feet, suddenly leaden, refusing to move. A few more inches would carry him out of her sight, and he had not left her, except for short periods, since he had carried her there himself almost a week ago.

"Allura," he said.

At the same time, she looked up, and said, plaintively, "Don't leave me."

He sighed, unsure if he felt relief or fear, frozen in the middle of a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. He wanted her to be strong, to be all right without him, to stay in Med Center until she was completely recovered and could once again be the strong ruler he had met for the first time not that long ago. He also felt weak and worried without her, knowing being away from her would divide his attention from the tasks at hand. He wanted her to need him, as much as he needed her. He wanted to stay and guard her from any and all harm. He wanted to leave immediately and find Lotor and grind him into dust. He wanted to stay right there and never leave her side. He wanted to make her laugh, to take her for a walk, to give her something pretty that would make her smile. He would do anything, in that moment, just to make her smile.

Instead, he walked lightly from the door to the bed, sat down beside her, and put his arm around her.

"Ok," he said simply. "But that means you're going to have to come, too. They need me up there. They need you, too."

She shrunk a little into herself, leaning into Keith's side. His hold on her only tightened. "That's going to be hard," she whispered. "I'm not sure I can go back….there…where, you know…" her voice died into a whisper as wet spots appeared on her hospital gown, the tears overflowing her one unbandaged eye.

"I know you can, Allura. I'll stay with you the entire time. But if you don't want to, I understand. We can call Nanny to come sit with you. You know she'd love too… She misses you. A lot of people do."

Allura closed her eyes and turned to bury herself in Keith's side. She took a deep, deep breath, inhaling his scent. She turned her face up to his, and despite her battered features, or perhaps even because of them, as he lowered his face to hers, he thought he had never seen a more beautiful, courageous creature in his life. Mindful of her injured mouth, he stayed very still as she kissed him, the light, inexperienced, unconsciously sensual kisses of a young woman discovering, perhaps later than most, a whole new world of physical sensations and attractions. He burned as he kept himself very still, not wanting to frighten her, not wanting to give into the part of him that wanted nothing more than to crush her into the mattress beneath them. _Her first, _he thought, almost drunkenly._ I'm her first real… _

The sound of someone clearing his throat broke the contact between the two of them. Embarrassed, she burrowed deeper into his side, leaving him to face Lance's cold stare alone.

"Just checking to see what the hold up was," Lance said, his tone inflectionless. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding," he added more softly, carefully, as he looked at the princess, who was obviously trying to melt into Keith's side from embarrassment.

"It's ok," Keith replied, as much to Lance as to the young woman he was holding. "The Princess wants to come with us," he said, giving Lance a cautioning look. "She's just nervous about going back to the command center so soon."

Lance nodded, his face softening. "Of course," he said, studiously not looking at Allura, his own face a curious shade of pink. He started to leave, and was startled when she cried out to him.

"Lance, wait!" She said, sitting up in Keith's arms. "Would you mind, if it's not an imposition, if you'd come too? Please?" She looked from one man to the other, and stood up from the bed on her own for the first time in almost a week. She shook like a leaf in the wind, weak from not eating or sleeping and from fear. "I really think I'm going to need two sets of arms to lean on." She swayed and grabbed the back of a chair for support. "And, um, perhaps some wardrobe help? I know I'm the ruler of the planet and all, but it's hard to take anyone seriously if they're wearing fuzzy pink slippers and a bathrobe." She smiled weakly at Lance, who smiled crookedly back.

Keith sat back on the bed, his breathing slowing. He knew how sheltered she was, he knew he'd carried her away from Lotor, he knew it could be a case of her confusing protection with love. Some part of him knew that wasn't true, but still, he did not want to screw this up, whatever it was they had with each other. So he was almost grateful for the interruption of an event that could have gone too far too soon, but he was unsettled at the feeling of the strange and sudden rightness of the three of them, of Lance and himself protecting her, together….

Then her last statement fully hit him. She was asking them, the both of them, for help_ getting dressed_? He broke into a sweat, as horrified as he was intrigued. He looked at Lance and saw an almost identical expression on his face. It made him wish for a camera, and then Allura laughed, a light, melodious sound that broke the tension in the room. "I have a most princess-worthy dressing gown in the closet, there, Lance, which will suffice, courtesy of Nanny, and some shoes somewhere….under the bed? Keith, would you mind checking?" And there was almost no awkwardness at all between the three of them as she shucked out of her bathrobe and slippers, standing barefoot in a hospital gown, clutching the back of a chair, while Lance brought her an ice-white satin gown spangled with pearls that opened down the front and tied with a sash. He held it for her as if he was helping her into a coat, and she slipped her arms into it, tying the sash tightly around her waist. Keith knelt at her feet, slipping them into matching soft white satin shoes that tied around her ankles with ribbons. He sat back, still kneeling, and looked up at her. He thought again of her wasted planet, of how she deserved clear blue skies and gardens to walk in…

She smiled down at him, her protector, as he unwittingly opened his mind to her again. She decided it was time to try something more direct. _Keith_, she called to him. _I believe it now, for the first time since Zarkon came. I believe in this safe green Arus you keep promising me._ His eyes narrowed, understanding kindling slowly behind them.

_Allura? _His voice was fuzzy, puzzled, in her mind. She nodded slightly.

Lance watched as something private passed between the two of them. He felt like a voyeur, but also a strange rightness, as if he, too, had a place here and a part to play.

And then she turned to him.

_Lance?_ He jumped. He was hearing voices in his head? Not good….

She smiled, touching his arm gently. _It's me, Lance. Can you hear me?_

_Oh shit,_ he thought.

"Language, language!" Allura said out loud, then, _Don't be afraid. It's ok._

"It is?" he asked, stupidly.

_Mind to mind contact is a gift among my people, albeit a rare one. The fact that we three can communicate, and neither of you Arusian, is just another sign…._

_Of what, Allura?_ Keith asked.

_That you're the ones. To save my planet and pilot Voltron. Speaking of which…._

"Don't we have a meeting to escort you to, Princess?" Lance asked, hiding his badly unsettled nerves with a courtly bow that was only slightly mocking.

"Yes, we do," she said, taking his arm, and grasping Keith's as he came up beside her. She held on to the two of them as they left the Med Center, feeling as weak as a newborn kitten, mindless of the stares they drew. The closer they got to the command center, the more she started to shake, her breathing becoming shallower and faster. When they got to the command center itself, the doors to the conference room just beyond, her legs stopped working, refusing to go any further. Lance and Keith looked at each other, no anger or jealousy or uneasiness in their eyes, just concern for the young woman they supported between themselves. "Allura?" Keith asked. "Do you want to go back?"

"Just keep walking," she said between clenched teeth. "I don't care if you have to drag me, just get me through this room." Behind her closed eyes, she was battling a barrage of images: _Alex above her: "I joined the Royal Guard to protect Arus against that bastard Drule prince who killed my wife." Her eyes widening... she had not known. "But I stayed to protect you. I never told you, princess. Allura, I love…" his breath cut short as a bluish-white lazon sword cut cleanly through his back…his eyes grew dimmer until the light faded entirely. Lotor leaning down, "He touched you," as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation. "No one touches you. No one but me." Lotor hitting her, again, and then again: "You made me do it, Allura," he whispered. "It's your fault he's dead. You should never have let him touch you." And then: "Kill them," as Drule soldiers stepped forward and shot every last remaining member of the Arusian Royal Guard in the back of the neck…._

And then, the goddess, Lyssa, the warrior maiden, who had come to both claim her and save her while she drifted in the ensuing darkness: _ She had five lions sitting at her feet, and each one was on a chain. "I am waiting," she said. "I am waiting for you to rise up and fight. You promised me. You promised your life to my service, to cleanse our planet of the evil that plagues us." She let slip all the lions but the biggest one, and handed his chain to her. "He is waiting, too, waiting for you to find him and claim him. He has been waiting for you since the stars were born."_

Allura opened her eyes and found herself staring at the conference room doors. She knew she had been crying, maybe more, because Keith and Lance looked really, really worried. They were holding her tightly, supporting almost all her weight, but together, they had made it. She remembered her promise, to the goddess, to herself, to Keith…

She turned to them, and said, simply, "Thank you. Next time, it won't be so hard." She released their arms to walk into the conference room with her own strength, on her own terms, every inch the Princess of Arus, ready to turn over the key to her planet's defense and future, the Black Lion, to the man she was falling in love with.


	9. Chapter 9: The Last Firefruit Tart

Author's note: I meant to get to some battle scenes faster than I have (next chapter, I promise!), but action develops at its own pace, apparently, and they really did need to finish their dessert….

Playlist: I skipped through R.E.M.'s complete discography, as well as a live recording from Tom Waits' _Glitter and Doom _tour from this past summer. Best damn show of my life, and he authorized NPR to record it live in Atlanta, so it's legit.

All the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron (but it doesn't own me either, so there ), etc. etc.

Chapter Nine:

The Last Firefruit Tart in the Universe

Allura watched the Lions soar high overhead across the blue skies of Arus. She felt as if her heart was up there with them, doing little flips and leaps and plummets and ascents, in rhythm with each one of the differently hued machines. She shielded her eyes against the sun; oh, how Nanny would fuss, and this time, rightly so, for being outside in the bright sunlight so soon after having her bandage removed. She had been cautioned by Dr. Gorma against too much exposure to direct sunlight, so she brought a large, shady hat with her to shield her from the worst of the sun. It lay discarded, now, but within easy reach. It interfered with her view of the sky. It had belonged to her mother and was something the Queen of Arus had worn to afternoon garden parties.

But there was nothing anywhere around Allura to even suggest that she was sitting near what had once been perhaps the most beautiful and celebrated garden in the known universe. Instead of a lush garden full of rare flowers, fountains, and low, fragrant bushes and trees, the princess sat on a thick blanket thrown down on one of the cracked marble walkways that led to a now bone-dry pond. She had carefully kicked the surface free of any large chunks of debris before settling herself onto her blanket. The walkway was the best place to see the Lions practicing maneuvers and flight patterns overhead. The ruins of the castle lay behind her, so there was nothing to obstruct her view. As she watched their aerial acrobatics, it was easy to forget, for a moment, about the devastation around her. But the ruins of her world were never far from her thoughts or her heart, and a part of her wondered if the two weren't somehow connected. Maybe, by rebuilding Arus on the surface, it would somehow rebuild the holes in the hearts of her people… and herself. _Easy, Allura,_ she told herself. _Defense first._ But the wasteland around her made her tired just thinking about it. It seemed like an impossible dream, that Arus would ever be, once again, the beautiful haven of her childhood.

But for now, for the littlest while, she was enjoying a few stolen moments to be just a girl soaking up the sun, lying on a blanket, her shoes kicked off somewhere to the side of her, sleeves rolled up and skirt hiked up to her knees. Sunbathing. That was the Earth term, according to Lance. He had begun to tell her more, about special clothing one wore for such occasions, but Keith had suddenly needed his help moving something heavy. Perhaps they could resume the conversation later, or she could ask Keith. It might give them another moment alone… she shivered slightly, despite the sun, thinking of being alone with Keith, talking about sunbathing, or about anything at all… Her skin felt pleasantly warm in the sun, and she squinted up at the sky with one eye closed, watching as the Black and Red Lions raced around one another in a figure eight formation. Blue and Yellow Lions made slow, lazy circles around each other before joining up to fly side-by-side, matching speeds and formation exactly as if they were mirror images of one another. The Green Lion was still missing, though; thinking about Pidge, still unconscious in Med Center, was enough to make it seem as if a shadow had moved across the sun. But the future Green Lion pilot _would_ recover, of that she was sure; she had seen it in her dreams, and in the part of her heart where her deepest, strongest truths lived.

VVVVV

She hadn't been outside for more than half an hour before she heard Nanny calling her name. Hastily, she grabbed her hat, slapped it on her head, and picked up the book on the history of Arus she was supposed to be studying. She straightened her clothing and did her best to look studious.

"Really, Princess," Nanny said, carrying a small, cloth-covered basket over one arm. "You are going to burn up in this sun."

Allura looked back down at her book after giving Nanny a weak greeting. The girl was pale, and still had fading yellow and green bruises on her face. She was alarmingly thin, by Nanny's standards; the time her princess had spent in Med Center had scared Nanny senseless. It was all Koran could do to keep her from charging in and kicking everyone out, force feeding the girl herself and dragging her out of bed. It had taken a joint session with both Koran and Dr. Gorma to change her mind.

Dr. Gorma had explained, patiently, how much trauma her poor baby had suffered, and how she was sunk in a deep, alarming depression as well as suffering from both emotional and physical shock from her injuries. He had explained that they could expect Allura to suffer from post-traumatic shock for an indeterminate amount of time, and that being surrounded by the soldiers from Earth was beneficial. They had been the ones to rescue her, and as the only fighting force left on Arus, were the best possible bodyguards and protectors. It was of the utmost importance that Allura feel as safe as possible, Dr. Gorma had explained, however unconventional the means.

So Nanny had swallowed her discomfort and stayed away. Now that Allura was once again sleeping in her own chambers, one of the four soldiers from Earth took turns keeping watch just outside her door while she slept. More than once, they had burst into Allura's room in the middle of the night, blasters drawn, alarmed by her screaming, only to find it was another of the nightmares that continued to plague her rather than an invasion. They waited, patiently, until the nurse assigned to the princess's room gave her a sedative and she settled once more into a fitful sleep. The look in the black-haired one's eyes when this happened was almost as frightening as the event itself. She did not like the situation, but if it would make her baby better faster, then she would deal with. The older woman looked at the four Lions flying overhead. _For now_, she amended. _I will deal with it for now._

To Allura, she held out her hand. "Come, child, walk with me a bit back towards the castle. I brought you something to eat, a firefruit tart, with soft butter cheese. I would like to sit with you while you eat it, but my old bones wouldn't allow me to get back up from that blanket once I sat down on it."

Allura put down her book. "I'm not really hungry, Nanny," she said, but she knew how scarce their supply of firefruit preserves, her favorite, had gotten, and that Nanny was making a special effort just for her. "But maybe I could eat a bite. Perhaps we could share it?" she asked, looking up at the older woman, who smiled hugely at her.

"Good, good," Nanny said, as Allura gathered up her things and, taking one last long lingering glance at the Lions in the sky, walked slowly back to the castle beside the older woman.

VVVVV

"I can't believe these uniforms," Sven muttered to himself as he and the rest of his teammates emerged from their respective Lion's tunnels. "I will kill the first one of you who even thinks about taking a picture of me in this," he announced, glowering at everyone.

"Oh, I don't know, Sven; I kinda think the black trim suits your sunny disposition," Lance said. "Besides, the blackmail potential alone might be worth a trip to the great beyond…"

"It's not so much worse than those cadet uniforms," Hunk said, trying to be cheerful. "Besides, when you're as big as I am, you get used to things looking funny on you."

"Speak for yourself, big guy," Lance retorted. "A guy like me can make even this look good."

"Like Snow White, maybe," Sven teased back. "Poor Pidge is going to wake up to this uniform and pass right back out," he added, in an uncharacteristic attempt at levity.

"It's Arusian tradition, guys," Keith said, although he was not exactly enchanted with the snow-white uniforms branded with a "V" across the chest. The material was slightly stretchy, allowing for quick movement, and also smooth and form-fitting, meaning that it was less likely to catch on something, like an enemy's grip, in combat, or during covert operations. Keith was glad for the rigorous PT schedule he had instituted, in addition to flight and combat training in the Lions, since … they had become the de facto protectors of Arus. The uniform hugged his body tightly. A similar outfit on the princess would be downright provocative… He shook his head. But the fabric also kept them cooler than their traditional Garrison flight suits, made of a lighter material that wicked moisture from their skin. Everything about the uniforms was perfect for flight and combat, except for the color. They were so white they almost glowed. Medieval armor would probably attract less attention; that only blinded in the sun.

But he felt the need to try to boost morale, so he said, "And it's an honor, too, not to just fly Voltron, but to wear these uniforms." He remembered Allura that day in the conference room, shaken, still, from her first walk through the command center since the day of the slaughter. He remembered his fear as they carried her between them, he and Lance, that she was going to have to be carried back to Med Center, and the worried glances he shared with his friend. But Lance just said, "Come on, Keith, she's stronger than this, and you know it," and he had clenched his jaw and helped walk with her through the room where her entire life had changed in a matter of moments. Where all their lives had changed…

But she had stood firm in her conviction that the Galaxy Garrison soldiers were meant to be the first Voltron Force since her father's day, and that Keith was meant to have the Black Lion. She had handed him the key herself, a strangely solemn look in her eyes, saying merely, formally, "Commander," with the smallest of Royal curtsies. He accepted the key equally as formally, bowing to her, aware of the enormity of what was passing between them, all of them. Outwardly, it was as if nothing private had happened between them at all, and this was just another layer of their relationship, and he had an odd sense of the future, seeing all of the complexities that lay before them, the intricate, many-layered dance that would play out between them, among all of them…

She took the key to the Green Lion from him, saying merely that she knew Pidge would have it, as soon as he awakened. Keith wished he shared her conviction. Their youngest teammate lay in Med Center still, unconscious, although it had been over two weeks since his injury. Dr. Gorma kept telling him it was normal, but Keith didn't entirely believe him and, normal or not, if Pidge was meant to have Green Lion, then they couldn't form Voltron without him, and he was afraid their luck against another attack from Zarkon wouldn't last much longer. In fact, Keith was sure that the longer Zarkon waited to attack, the nastier the attack would be once it happened. _Wake up, Pidge_, he thought to his friend. _We really need you out here. And I miss you, little buddy._

VVVVV

Princess Allura sat in Med Center holding the youngest member of the Voltron Force's hand. There was no medical reason for him to not wake up; Dr. Gorma told her the wound from the long shard of glass that had pierced so close to his heart had been cleaned and sealed days ago. Similarly, all his vital signs were checking out as normal. She looked down on him, brushing his unruly light brown curls from his forehead. Without his glasses, his features were strangely delicate. If he had been a girl, Allura would have called him pretty. But of course, he was a boy, and probably a very shy, sensitive one at that, so she would do no such thing. He looked so young, even though he was really only a few years younger than her. In fact, he was closer to her in age than she was to some of the members of the Force. Dr. Gorma reasoned he was only sleeping, that his body remained in a coma because he still had healing to do. Allura thought maybe the healing was mental and emotional rather than physical. She wondered, having talked with Hunk one night, while they were both still in Med Center, about Pidge's childhood, and she felt a sudden, fierce kinship with him. They were both orphans. They had both lost their mothers at roughly the same age. He could easily have been her younger brother, and she had wanted one so much, growing up.

She had no doubt the Green Lion pilot would awaken. She had seen it in her dreams, and in the vision the goddess Lyssa sent her about the Lions. She just didn't know when. It had begun to feel to her like something was wrong, like they were running out of time, and she trusted her feelings and intuitions more than most people did. They had saved her own life, and some of her people's lives, many times now. Powers of the mind, of varying strengths and varieties, were common among Arusian aristocracy, and she was at the age when she would be coming into her full powers.

As she looked down at Pidge, she wondered, not for the first time, whether or not she should try to wake him, or at least to reach him through mind-speech. She was hesitant to do so just yet. It might not even work with him. It didn't with everyone. She had discovered, to her delight and their initial discomfort, that she was able to communicate mind-to-mind with every member of the Voltron Force except Sven. That puzzled her a bit. Perhaps it would be the same with Pidge. And even if it wasn't, there was the possibility that he was hiding somewhere deep in his mind, and that she would get pulled in, unable to pull herself out.

Her little pet mouse, Cheddar, had taken quite a liking to Pidge, and could often be seen sitting near him. It was a good sign. Cheddar had infallible instincts when it came to people. Once, she had even caught him sprawled out on the pillow beside Pidge's head, asleep, his fat little mouse belly protruding upward, his little paws splayed. She couldn't help it; she had snuck up on him and tickled his belly, which had him up and squeaking in outrage. The little mouse sat on her shoulder now, wiggling his whiskers at the sleeping pilot. _I know, Cheddar_, she thought to him, absently catching the sense of his subtle, animal thoughts. _I wish he would wake up too. I know he'll be really pleased to meet you when he does._ Lost in thought, she absently reached into Nanny's basket and pulled off a pinch of butter cheese for him. "Here you go," she whispered, feeding the morsel to her pet.

From the shadows, he watched her, this walking contradiction of a princess who was both fragile and strong as steel, who talked to goddesses and could reach into people's minds, who fought grimly for her dying planet, who kissed him with a mixture of innocence and fire, who kept a mouse for a pet…

"Got anything in that basket for me?" he asked softly, stepping out of the shadows to stand by the bed behind her.

She didn't even have to turn to know it was him, although she did anyway. When she saw him, she gasped. She had never seen him in his uniform. He almost glowed in the dim interior of the hospital room, his uniform clinging to him in places that made it hard to look away. There had not been a Voltron Force since before she was born, and she had never, ever, seen a man dressed as he was… her eyes traced him from the top of his black hair, across his broad shoulders and toned arms, down his tight stomach to his muscled thighs, and back up again, her face turning an ever brighter red as her gaze lingered in places she had never…

Keith fought down feelings of acute embarrassment as she stared at him, open-mouthed. He knew the uniform was a bit closer-cut than he would have preferred, and he was on the verge of excusing himself to change, when he realized that she had probably never been this close to a man dressed like he was. He imagined the situation reversed, and the staring he'd be doing if she stood before him clad as he was. _Her first_, he remembered. _I'm her first, in so many ways_, and he felt it then, the love between them, in all its incarnations, as a sacred thing, and although he did not fully understand it, he was determined to be true to it. So he stood perfectly still before her as she looked at him, wonder and desire in her eyes, reminding himself that her fascination with his body was perfectly natural and right, a door through which they must pass on their journey together, which would one day become more physical, until she realized what she was doing and looked guiltily away.

It disturbed him, to see guilt in her eyes. He did not want her to feel shame over what lay between them. He wanted her to experience it as the sacred thing it was, and to know that she was completely and totally safe with him.

"Allura," he called softly, not moving, not wanting to scare her, but needing to pull her back to him somehow.

Her pet mouse had finished his cheese and was squeaking at her, pulling her hair. She listened for a minute, and then giggled. Turning back to him shyly, she said, "Cheddar said you can share his basket, but hands off the butter cheese," and she patted the chair next to the bedside table. "So now it's _your _basket, you greedy little thing?" she scolded, scooping the mouse up in her hands and tickling him. It was absolutely the most adorable thing he had ever seen, and Keith, enchanted, slipped into the chair.

"Have you ever had firefruit?" she asked him, the awkwardness slipping away between them.

"Firefruit?" he echoed, noticing the way her hair was slipping free from its braid. "Uh, no, I don't believe so," he answered, trying to stay focused.

She reached into the small basket and pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle. "Firefruit is my favorite. I don't know where else it grows besides Arus. Or at least, Arus is where it did grow, before…" she blinked fiercely, adding, "Nanny made this for me today, when I was watching you at Lion practice. It's a firefruit tart. She made it from the last of the firefruit preserves. It may be the last firefruit tart in the entire universe." She looked so incredibly sad. "I haven't been able to make myself eat it, because… if it's the last…" and she could hold back the tears no longer. "But if I don't, it will spoil, and what good is that?" She reached out for his hand, and pulled him to her. He wound up kneeling somewhat awkwardly by the side of the bed, his arms crossed in her lap, knees on the floor.

He saw that she was still embarrassed, so he said simply, "I understand." She looked down into his earnest face and laughed, at herself, at the both of them, for being so serious over a piece of dessert.

She sat up straight, princess fashion, and asked, with mock seriousness, "Keith Kogane, Commander of the Voltron Force, will you eat this firefruit tart with me?"

He smiled up at her. "Your majesty, it would be my great honor to share your tart with you."

She broke off pieces of it, feeding him small bites of it at a time, her fingers brushing his lips as she did so. Once, boldly, her finger traced itself across his tongue. He almost choked then, from desire as much as surprise. Laughing and choking at the same time, he said, "My turn, Princess. You can't let me hog the whole firefruit tart," and he took what was left of the pastry, holding the whole thing an inch or so away from her mouth, making her reach for it with her lips.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she took tiny nibbles, and he continued to move the pastry further and further from her lips, making her chase it, her lips moving closer to him with every bite, until there was only one tiny bite left and she was so close he could smell firefruit on her breath. Her eyes began to look sad again as she regarded the last bite of her favorite fruit left in the universe. "We have to share it, you know," he whispered. "It's only fair," as he placed it between his lips and leaned towards her. Her eyes kindled, and she leaned forward, wrapping her lips around his, the piece of pastry lost between them and their kiss.


	10. Chapter 10: Trifecta

Author's note: I debated about the best place to address this, but I decided to go ahead and do it here, since I'm fairly new at this and am unsure of a better venue. I have chosen to spell Koran's name with a "K" instead of a "C" on purpose. I have seen it done both ways in the Voltron Universe, but I deliberately chose "Koran" because to me, it's a stylistic thing. It was also somewhat intended to add a reverent tone to a character who has always seemed kind of spiritual to me, "Koran" being the anglicized spelling of Qu'ran, the Muslim holy book. I meant no disrespect. Ultimately, I think it's kind of like the debate over Sven being Swedish or Norwegian.

Having said all that, I hope you all like battle scenes better than stylistic musings, and here's one for the Lotor fans, as well.

Playlist: Pink Floyd, "Dark Side of the Moon," several times, very loudly, of course…

All the usual disclaimers apply: Don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Special note: Lotor's "Creed" was loosely adapted from the one he uses in the DD comics scene. Very loosely, but still, give credit where credit is due…

Chapter Ten:

Trifecta

Lotor knelt, eyes closed, sword gripped by its jeweled hilt and blade held down between his two hands. Although his eyes were closed tightly, his ears nearly quivered against the blast of sound surrounding him as he knelt in his studio. He supposed the title "studio" suited the multiple purposes served by the room as well as any other; the darkened room stretched for hundreds of feet around him, lit only by torches on the mirrored walls and by glowing chandeliers hung high above him. He knelt on the black marbled floor, gripping his bejeweled sword by the hilt, as the sound of music, turned up so forcefully it would burst a human's eardrums, washed over him in waves. If he couldn't feel it in his body, he thought, it wasn't loud enough. He smiled at the prospect of this morning's meditation; it would be his last before the next massive assault on Planet Arus. As such, he had chosen today's participants and musical accompaniment carefully; beyond the closed circle of those few he allowed into his inner compound, no one would have figured him for a music fan. His sound system covered the entire back wall of the room.

This morning's selection was from Earth. He had taken an interest in the so-called classical period of what they called "rock and roll" since the soldiers from Earth had appeared to snatch Arus and its princess back from the brink of annihilation two weeks before. One could learn much from a people and their culture by their music; although he preferred the darker-sounding instruments and intense rhythmic beats of his own native culture, it would bring him some small degree of pleasure to conduct this morning's meditation while the most prized musical accomplishments of his newest enemies wrapped themselves around his senses.

He quite liked what he had chosen; tremendously popular towards the end of the twentieth century, most Earth musical critics agreed it was one of the finest such works ever created during that period. It suited his mood; he liked that it had "Dark Side" in the title, and was also "of the Moon," because that invoked the powers of the Night Goddess, one of the Drule deities to whom he swore allegiance. He motioned to his steward, standing unseen in the shadows behind him, to turn the music louder, unsatisfied until he saw the mirrors of the studio begin to literally shake with sound. After a brief, centering prayer to his ancestors, he was ready.

He rose, swinging the sword experimentally. Unlike the lazon sword he preferred for battle, this was a special blade used specifically for his meditations. He made a few experimental sweeps and arcs with it, going swiftly through a series of warm-up exercises, using the pounding bass sounds of the music engulfing him to set the pace for his physical preparations. Ready at last, he made a series of gestures to his steward in Drule battle signals. The rapid hand motions translated roughly into, "Release the wolves."

He had procured the animals directly from Earth, had fed and cared for them until they were in the topmost physical form possible, and then stopped feeding them. He smiled as he watched the wolf pack, crazed with hunger, rush for him. As the pack circled him, he tensed, ready for the first one to spring, and began to recite the Drule God of War's Creed of Devotion:

_The Warrior's Road begins not with self-denial, but with discipline;_

_To deny the Warrior's innermost desires is to diminish his strength;_

_For desire serves only to strengthen resolve and clarify purpose;_

_The Warrior's Road is to discipline oneself through Sacred Battle,_

_To seek balance between dark and light, power and weakness;_

_Mercy and mercilessness; to destroy one's own and one's God's_

_Enemies as an affront to the Balance of War, and to enjoy the spoils_

_Which are the right and the reward of the Faithful Warrior._

When he had finished his recitation, every wolf lay dead at his feet, his sword dripping blood, his own heart racing, teeth bared, all against the backdrop of the pounding, eerily dark music from Earth. He smiled. It had been a good meditation. He would have to continue with this theme of earth music and combatants. Perhaps, after he succeeded in crushing the Princess's planet and bringing her here, to his private compound, he would save some of the Earthmen for his morning meditation. There was another acclaimed work he was eager to experience; it spoke of both guns and roses, and he liked the metaphor. Guns for the Earthmen, roses for the princess. His eyes narrowed. If she deserved them, that is, by the time he was through with her.

He motioned to his steward to cut off the music and clean up the mess. "Tell my father and his witch I am ready for the invasion," he said, as he swept out of the room, not a drop of the slaughtered wolf pack's blood anywhere on his person.

VVVVV

Keith and Allura sat together in Med Center, watching Pidge's sleeping form, fingers interlaced. Some sixth sense, which Allura was beginning to trust more and more, had made her pull shyly away from Keith's kisses, which were growing more passionate as she eagerly returned them. She withdrew from him, her breathing heavy, eyes wide as she looked into his own confused brown ones.

"What happened?" he asked anxiously. "Did I do something wrong? Are we going too fast? Allura, I wouldn't rush you or hurt you for the world," he said, concern plain on his face.

She smiled at him, her eyelids lowered, lips swollen slightly, before whispering, emphatically, "No, Keith, you are most assuredly _not_ going too fast."

"Then what…"

"Lance," she said, and sure enough, they both heard footsteps approaching up the corridor. Understanding dawned in Keith's eyes as he slid back into the chair he had occupied briefly earlier. He, too, could feel his teammate's presence before he actually joined them in the room, and once he did, there was a feeling of completeness as the three of them looked down on the sleeping Pidge.

"No change?" Lance asked, completely unsurprised to find them there, together. He had known they would be here, although exactly how he had known remained a mystery. Perhaps something to do with the mind-to-mind bond that was growing between them all? All of them, he amended, except Sven…

"No," Allura answered, worry plain in her voice. "Koran says another attack is imminent, and I fear, after the last attack, this next will be much, much stronger." Her eyes looked haunted as she whispered, "This time, they'll bring a Robeast. And we have nothing but the four Lions, without Pidge and Green Lion. They won't be enough."

Keith and Lance exchanged looks. They had heard of Robeasts, and the wasted planet outside testified to the destruction they wrought. But what alarmed them both was the look in Allura's eyes; she was melting, as she sometimes still did, after Lotor last terrorized and beat her.

"We'll take care of it, Allura," Keith assured her.

"Besides," Lance said, "If Pidge hasn't had enough beauty sleep by now, nothing's going to help." His chest loosened when he saw her smile slightly. "Hey," he said, noticing the small basket on the bedside table. "Got anything to eat in there?"

The look Keith and Allura gave each other was difficult to decipher. "Cheese," Allura said, dropping her gaze to her hands. "Butter cheese. That's all. You can have some, though," she began to offer him, when the alarms began shrieking at full force. The three of them stared at each other for approximately two seconds before Keith and Lance rushed for the door.

"Are you armed?" Lance asked, ready to toss her his own blaster. She nodded, sliding up her skirt to show him the blaster strapped to her thigh and the long knife sheathed to her ankle. Relief and something else warred in his eyes before he left, running.

Allura started to follow when Keith turned to her. "We've got to get the Lions up. Allura, we need Pidge." His tone made it into a command, not a request. Gone was her gentle Keith, and in his place was the battle-ready Commander of the Voltron Force. "Get Dr. Gorma, but if he can't do it, you'll have to wake him. Use your powers. No matter what." She nodded mutely, wanting to tell him she would burn out her psyche to get the Green Lion in the air to save her people, but he was already gone.

VVVVV

Haggar stood behind Lotor's chair as they entered Arusian airspace. "Remember, my Prince," she whispered in her crackly, airy voice. "Remember about the Princess."

"She is mine, witch," Lotor said, contemptuously. "We have been over this."

Haggar stroked her cat when Coba hissed at him. "No doubt, Highness, no doubt. But her mind will belong to me, for just a short time. We agreed on that, remember, my Prince?"

Lotor remembered. _Haggar stood near his father's throne as Zarkon berated him for all his failures and shortcomings, even though the aging monarch had not led a battle himself in decades. I am a convenient excuse when his plans go awry, Lotor thought sourly, as he endured the old man's lectures. Haggar surprised him, this time, though, by stepping forward and placing one hand on Zarkon's throne._

_"What is it, witch?" Zarkon demanded, derailed. Even Lotor was mildly interested._

_"The Princess Allura."_

_She had Lotor's full attention now. "What of her?" he snarled. "She is mine as a spoil of war."_

_"Yes, Prince, under Drule law, and no one, not even the Emperor, will deny you. But she is of more value than as just a pretty face and body. She has a rare power of the mind that, properly channeled and harnessed, could make quite a powerful weapon to increase the might of the great Drule Empire."_

_"Go on," Zarkon said._

_"The key lies with you, my Prince," she said, turning to him, ignoring the aging monarch for once. "The rulers of Arus have always possessed a rare kind of mind magic, one that does not rely on spells or sacrifices, or anything, in fact, besides themselves and their inner strength." The witch stroked her familiar. "Princess Allura possesses these abilities unlike any of her ancestors for many generations. She is most likely unaware of the extent of them; since her parents are dead, there is no one to explain it to her. She stands at the cusp of the full awakening of her abilities, however, and if properly channeled…"_

"_You said that already, witch," Lotor growled, his patience with her at an end. "What is it you want from me?"_

"_Great trauma sometimes awakens these abilities earlier, and more strongly, than when they emerge on their own," she said, her eyes boring into his. "If you were to frighten her, injure her, even force her…" He found it unpleasant to look directly at her for long, but he held her gaze. "…and then bring her to me, I could harness her greatly enhanced mental powers for my own purposes. It would do no real harm to her body, and her mind would eventually heal. In fact, it would most likely make her more pliable, my Prince…"_

"_And if she uses her enhanced abilities against me while I attempt to…subdue her?" Lotor asked._

_Haggar gave him a dark sapphire amulet. "This will offer some protection, my Prince. Let me caution you, that Allura and her protectors are strong, and this may be your only hope of both weakening them and subduing her, all at once."_

_Lotor accepted the amulet. "It doesn't sound all that different from what I'm planning anyway." Both Haggar and Zarkon looked pleased._

Lotor had spent many nights now planning this assault, and the many ways he would subjugate the Princess of Arus. It would be the perfect trifecta: Haggar would stay with the main command ship and release the Robeast while awaiting his return. His next in command, General Yurak, would release the robot ground troops and lead the aerial attack. He would personally lead the invasion of the ruined castle with an elite unit of humanoid guards, eliminating as many Arusians as he could find, before laying claim to the Princess. He fingered his amulet. After tonight, she would lack the will or the desire or the ability to ever resist him again. 

VVVVV

"What the _hell_ is that?" Lance asked, dodging laser blasts from Drule fighters as he wove in and out of their attack formation, burning every single one he could to ashes with his Lion torches. The Drule fighters had wasted no time, once in Arusian airspace, in deploying from the massive command ship that hovered beyond the edge of the battle. "This is easily twice as many as before, maybe more, you know" he complained, deploying torpedoes and torches at once.

"I'm confident you can handle it, Lance. It's not the fighters I'm worried about," Keith told him grimly, eyes on the bizarre craft that had just landed near the castle. "It's that coffin. That's got to be a Robeast."

"And without Green Lion, we can't form Voltron," Hunk added, needlessly, in Keith's opinion.

"Ok, we have to have faith in Allura and Dr. Gorma back at the castle. Pidge is going to wake up, and will be here, in Green Lion. We're just holding off the bad guys until the cavalry arrives," Keith said, attack formations and strategy plans racing through his head. He closed his eyes, finding that calm center he had always been able to access, even in the heat of the fiercest fighting. It took a few deep, centering breaths, drawing upon his martial arts training, before he had the beginnings of a defense plan. "Lance, keep wiping out those fighters. Sven, you and I are going to go see what comes creeping out of that coffin. I want you at my six. Hunk, clean up those ground troops. Let's see how much damage we can do without the big guy."

Lance let out a whoop and shot upwards in a blur of flames and laser blasts. "Your wish is my command, Keith," he said, the sheer joy that always overcame him when flying clear in his voice.

Hunk said nothing, merely dropping to skim the surface of the planet, long, wicked-looking blades extended from Yellow Lion's mouth. He flew directly between lines of troops, mowing them down like so many blades of grass, using torpedoes mounted on his Lion's back to clean up any escaping troops.

As the coffin began to open, and a scaly green arm began to appear, blades appeared in Black Lion's mouth as well. "Let's try and cut that thing up before it gets up and on the ground, Sven," Keith said, flying right at the emerging Robeast. Two arms were out now, and he and Sven each took a swipe at one of them, shaving cleanly through the thick green scales, shredding its arms until its blood ran in streams. The Robeast screamed a high-pitched whine that shattered all the windows in the ruined castle's North Tower. Keith and Sven both cried out simultaneously; its voice was a weapon, as well.

Enraged, it leapt out of the coffin and charged, shredded arms swinging, straight for Black Lion. Keith prepared to slice at the thing again, shooting lasers and torpedoes as it approached, but the Robeast had a few more surprises of its own; as it released another ear-shattering whine, it shot a red beam from its single eye straight at Black Lion. Keith fought for control as his Lion dipped dangerously towards the ground. Sven made another pass at the Robeast, firing torpedoes directly down its mouth.

"Keith?" Sven called to him over the comm. system. "Are you alright? What the hell just happened?"

Keith wrestled with the control bar, pulling Black Lion out of its spin. "No idea, Sven. Powerful laser."

"Well, I think I shut it up, at least," Sven said, taking another swipe at its legs with his Lion Blade.

"Listen, everybody," Keith said, addressing the team over the comm. system. "This thing is ugly, powerful, and slow. I don't think Sven and I can get this alone, so we're going to try and annoy it, keep it confused."

Sven muttered something darkly in Norwegian, dodging a swipe from the Robeast's arm. Keith ignored him, taking another swipe at it while firing on its single eye.

"Hunk, keep working on those ground troops," he said, and nodded at Hunk's quick affirmative. "Lance? How's it going up there?"

"I'm busting the hell out of these guys, Keith. Red loves it. But I can't clear them out and do anything about that command ship except watch it." Lance broke off while Keith heard a series of explosions and curse words from the Red Lion pilot. "But you're not going to like this."

"Report," Keith barked, flying circles around the Robeast, firing everything he had at it while it swatted at him as if he was nothing but a fly, trying to keep its attention off the castle and the other Lions.

"A fighter just deployed. Sleek, silver, and expensive. Exactly how our Blue Boy likes them."

"Shit!" Keith swore. "Hunk, report! Fighter on the ground! Status report!"

"I'm working towards it, Keith, swear to God. It landed above ground near where Med Center is."

Their commander let out a string of expletives like none they'd ever heard before. "Ok, let's keep trying to clean up out here," he said, trying to sound calm, but inside, his heart was racing. He was desperate enough to believe this time, to try to reach her. _Allura! Where are you? Lotor's coming! Get out NOW!_

Nothing.

_Lance, _he thought fiercely at his friend. _Can you reach her? Can you pick up anything_?

_I'm trying, Keith. I'm trying hard._

He turned his attention back to the battle raging on all sides all around them, black rage in his heart. He thought of Allura, and of Lotor, and his rage became all consuming, his attacks against the Robeast riskier, verging on careless. _Where the hell is Pidge? _He wondered again.

"Uh, Keit?" Sven said quietly, slipping back into his heavy Norwegian accent, as he did only when he was severely stressed or surprised. "Vould you look at de castle? Someting's happening…"

The entire battle seemed to hold its breath as Keith watched, his heart in his throat, as the old ruins of the castle came crashing down, and a shining new structure rose slowly from its ruins. Titanium walls gleamed, the crest of Arus prominently displayed across its center, as gun turrets rose outward from the front and sides of the shining new structure, wasting no time in providing cover for the Lions.

For once, even Lance was speechless.

"How do you like my shiny new castle, guys?" Pidge asked smugly over the comm. system as Green Lion swept into view.

Keith came as close to a prayer as he ever had since … since _she_ had died. He gripped his controls fiercely, centering himself once again in the battle, and Black Lion, as if hearing his thoughts, let out a tremendous roar.

"What do you mean, _your_ shiny new castle, squirt?" Lance half-teased the young pilot.

"Glad to see you too, fire-breath," Pidge replied.

"Seriously, glad to see you, man, but what the _hell_ just happened back there?" Lance pressed him.

"I had some time to really analyze the castle's defenses, like Keith told me, before I was hit," Pidge answered, joining the rest of his teammates and their Lions as they all pulled upward, readying themselves. "We don't have time, I know, but suffice to say, those underground shelters King Alfor built? Those weren't shelters."

"Allura?" Lance asked. The one question he was afraid to vocalize.

"She…woke me up, when Dr. Gorma couldn't. This is going to sound weird, but she… messed around in my head or something. Talked to me…"

"None of us think it's weird," Lance replied. "But she was ok? When you saw her last?"

"Yeah, we left Med Center together. She wanted to drag me to the Lions first thing, but I knew about the buried castle, and I knew I had to get that new castle up, it's got weapons, it can take direct hits…Hey did you guys know she carries a blaster strapped to her…"

"Ok, already, let's form Voltron," Keith said, initializing the sequence that would, supposedly, join all five Lions as one. "We've got one big damn mess to clean up. Ok, ready to assemble?" He didn't even wait to hear any replies. Lotor was in there. With her.

He called out the initiating sequence, excitement building in him nonetheless: _"Activate interlocks! _

_Dyna-therms connected. _

_Infra-cells up; _

_Mega-thrusters are go! _

_Form feet and legs; _

_Form arms and body; _

_And I'll form… the head!"_

Recovering from its initial shock, first at the castle rising up out of nowhere, and now at the appearance of an enormous robot, the Robeast lumbered towards, them, clawing the air and shooting various kinds of beams from its eyes.

"I'm seriously sick of dumb and ugly, over there," Sven said, his accent gone, in control and focused once again. "Let's take him out." The Robeast, perhaps sensing the end was near, charged the giant robot and wrapped its arms around him in a desperate, crushing grip.

"All right, guys let's try out some of these weapons we've been studying," Keith said. "Electro-force cross!" he commanded, and watched eagerly as the cross-shaped energy pulse sunk into the Robeast's chest. The creature's single eye blinked out as it did so. It released them with a moan. "Lance! Lion torches! Sven! Ice blast!" He watched, fascinated, as his teammates unleashed their weapons on the Robeast.

"I think we've annoyed him enough that we can get down to business," Keith said. "After all, we've got a whole other army to deal with, and be advised, guys, Lotor's running loose in that castle, however new and impregnable it is."

As Keith took a deep breath and uttered the words for the first time, it felt to him as if he had been saying them all his life: "Form blazing sword!"

Keith watched, amazed, as the impossibly bright sword appeared between Voltron's clenched fists. The Robeast, fascinated by this new weapon as a child might be by a shiny new toy, made one last attempt to lunge at them. Keith felt the upward movement and downward slash as the sword cut the Robeast in half. The thing's chest opened up down the center in a jagged line, leaving a gaping wound that seemed to take the creature entirely by surprise.

"Whoa," Hunk said, amazement clear in his voice.

"Gross!" exclaimed Pidge.

"All right, guys," Keith said. "Let's separate out and finish off the rest of these forces. Zarkon's not going to forget today's beating for a very long time."

"Keith, be advised, the command ship is pulling out," Lance broke in over the comm. system. "Should we go after it?"

Keith thought about it quickly, but discarded the idea. "No, Lance. I think we can do more damage annihilating the last of Zarkon's forces. Besides," he said, his voice grim, "We have enemies in the castle. It would be nice to be able to hand Zarkon's heir over to the proper authorities." Mentally, he asked Lance, _Have you managed to contact her?_

_Negative, Commander. You?_

_Me neither, Lance. _Keith gripped the controls. She would be fine, they would see…


	11. Chapter 11: Love Hurts but Desire Kills

Author's note: WARNING: THIS IS AN EXPLICIT AND VIOLENT CHAPTER. At the request of many of you, **I have restored the original version of this chapter.** I agree with all of you who read both versions that there's no reason not to post this as is. So there you have it, and thanks to all of you for bringing it up. I tried to walk a very careful line with this chapter. There is violence, perhaps even trauma, of a sexual nature (Lotor's in it, for crying out loud), but nothing pornographic. I have carefully compared it to other "T" books out today, and I still personally do not feel it warrants an "M" rating. But to those of you bothered by violence mixed with sexuality in any form, I respect that, and want to warn you up front. Consider yourself warned and skip ahead if this is you. Having said all that, I did promise some competition from Lotor, didn't I?

Playlist: "The Last Pale Light in the West," by Ben Nichols, and parts of the "Kill Bill" soundtrack, both volumes.

And of course, all the standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Eleven:

Love Hurts, Desire Kills: Lotor and Allura

He was choking her, his arm pressed against her neck as she squirmed on the floor beneath him.

How had he gotten into the new castle, and then found her so quickly after leaving Pidge…she had only been alone for a minute or two, she was almost to the control room… she thrashed, panic overwhelming her at his nearness… it was like one of the screaming nightmares come to life….

He pressed harder on her neck, cutting off her air. Her eyes flew open and her lips parted, struggling for breath…

"That's better," he said, right in her face. "I like it when you look at me. When you part your lips like that." She still couldn't breathe; things were going gray. He rolled himself over on top of her, arm still across her neck, and covered her lips with his. His fierce kisses crushed her lips; she could feel them bruising under the onslaught of his roughened skin. His sharp teeth nipped at her swollen lower lip. Even without air, even while the world went gray around her, she could taste blood in her mouth…

He eased up a little with the pressure on her neck. "I don't want you to pass out on me. Not yet, anyway," he said, looking her over, delighted. She took quick deep gulps of air. He looked genuinely happy to see her, and that scared her more than the blood in her mouth.

"I know you think I'm a madman, and perhaps I am," he said. She was still pinned underneath him. "I will do anything to have you, Allura. You belong to me under Drule law, as a spoil of war, and you have since the day Zarkon, my father, killed your parents. I own you just as surely as I own my sword, or this necklace," he said, indicating a large sapphire pendant hanging on a heavy chain around his neck.

"I have so many things to show you, to teach you, pretty little princess. So innocent." She started to squirm underneath him, her face coloring a deep red as she realized they were ringed with armed Drule guards who were watching everything that happened between them….

"You haven't learned yet, the many layers there are to desire," he said, his fingers tracing her cheek slowly, lightly, down and across her neck. His fingers stopped at the neckline of her gown. He watched her intently, genuinely fascinated by the emotions crossing her face. His fingers dipped lightly under the fabric of her neckline, making her gasp. She couldn't help it; she shivered. "You see?" he whispered, watching her. "Even in helplessness, even in pain, there is pleasure, there is need. I will be the one to teach you this, the many layers of desire, all these things you don't know." He pursed his lips, regarding her, looking her up and down, the entire length of her. "Not that it matters. Much. But I wonder…" He bared his teeth at her in what she assumed passed for a smile. "Have you been with someone? That Captain? What was his name?" Her face flamed and her eyes teared up at his question…how dare he bring up Alex?

"How dare you even mention his name," she whispered, pain breaking across her features. "You murdered him."

She closed her eyes in shame and pain. In her mind, to get away from it all, she retraced the mistakes she had made that had led to her capture. She had just left Pidge. She had taxed herself waking him, reaching him. The young pilot had been buried deeply in his mind, and reaching him had left her spent, tired, and careless. She had thought of nothing but getting him to his Lion, of getting help to the Voltron Force…Walking towards the command center, she felt the castle rumble, the ground underneath her moving, and then…Someone had caught her from behind, before she could so much as reach for her blaster, his hand over her mouth, before dragging her into an empty room. The ballroom, she thought, but she couldn't be sure yet.

He interrupted her reverie by laughing. "No, I can see not. Not yet. How delightful. Don't worry, Princess. These are my personal guards, and they are completely loyal to me. Whatever they see, they will keep to themselves. Ignore them," he said, his hand slipping under her skirts, trailing up her leg to her thigh. He found the blaster, then, and laughed, amused. "Look at this, boys," he said as he handed it to one of the Drule. "Isn't it cute? Search her for other weapons. But not in certain areas." He grinned wickedly. "I look forward to doing that myself."

She whimpered and thrashed as she felt more than one set of strange hands running up and down parts of her body. A guard said something in Drule when he found her dagger. Lotor replied in Drule, and she felt two pairs of hands remove her white boots. He smiled at her. "Keeping secrets, hmmm?" Watching her intently, as if not wanting to miss a single expression, he reached down to her bare ankle and caressed it for a moment. "Such soft, fine skin. Princess skin. So…" he twisted her ankle sideways and back, into an angle never meant to be natural, and she screamed, her eyes rolling back in her head, as she heard something snap and almost lost consciousness as the waves of pain hit her. Lotor looked happy, for a moment, inhaling her scream as if it was a fine wine.

"You must realize, my dear," his hand resuming its movement upward, "that you cannot fight me off." She sucked in a deep breath to scream, but his gloved hand clapped itself over her mouth. Hard. She blinked back tears as the leather slapped against her bruised and bitten lip. She tried to bite him through the leather, but he propped himself up on one elbow to free his other hand and slapped her across the cheek. "I would tell you to stop it, but I find your fruitless struggles quite attractive, my dear," he whispered into her ear before he bit it, hard. She whimpered against his glove.

"So you like the taste of my glove?" he said, slow and soft. His eyes had developed an orange hue in addition to the yellow, and his breathing became deeper, slower. She fought the sheer panic back as she realized he found this arousing, her fear and pain. _Keith_, she thought, desperately. _KEITH, PLEASE!_ She screamed with her mind. _He has me! In the ballroom! KEITH! _She didn't know if she was reaching him, but as Lotor continued his exploration underneath her dress, she couldn't stop herself. Her mental voice got louder, wilder, until she thought her head might explode. KEITH. LANCE. BALLROOM. LOTOR. HELP.

Lotor removed his glove with his teeth and stuffed it into her mouth so she could no longer scream. _At least he can't kiss me anymo…_ and her thoughts were cut off abruptly as she really did scream, into his leather glove, his free hand hurting her, a searing pain shooting through her as he hurt her, intimately, cruelly, laughing as he did so…

Something in her head did explode then, and as she continued to call out to her protectors, KEITH, LANCE! the windows in the ballroom all shattered outward. Lotor paused for a moment, the pain easing up, before he continued to hurt her, even more roughly, and she thrashed and whimpered. "It's working, the old witch," he said, but his words made no sense to her.

_Allura_, she heard in her mind, weakly. _We're coming. Hold on, Allura, please hold on._

Her mind would not stop screaming, the pressure in her head almost as painful as what Lotor was doing to her. KEITH LANCE HURRY HE'S HURTNG ME…. Around her, the lights in the chandeliers, high overhead, shattered and rained glass down on them. Window frames exploded into flying shards of wood, and through it all, Lotor looked incredulous. "Good, Allura, good," he said, releasing the hand he was using to hold her arms, motioning to a guard to do it for him. The guard stepped forward and grasped both her hands with his heavy, rough Drule ones, stretching her arms far above her. "Almost enough, Allura, almost," Lotor said. She screamed against his glove then, her eyes rolling back in her head, as his cruel hand continued its painful, intimate torture. With his other hand, propped on one elbow, he began to slap her, across one cheek and then the other, until she was almost blinded by the pain and pressure in her head. That was when all the doors in the room exploded outward, and Lotor looked down at her, almost tenderly.

"That was good, Allura," he crooned. "Such a good girl. I think that's enough for now."

"Yes, Lotor, that's more than enough," said Keith behind him, his voice dark and cold and quaking with rage, as the rest of the Voltron force converged on the Drule guard.

"I'm going to kill you now," Keith added, almost conversationally.

Allura cried then, into the glove in her mouth, tears rolling down over her burning, bruising face. Why? Why were they here now, and not before? Why now, when it was too late? She shook, still pinned under Lotor.

"Move," Lance said roughly, his blaster pointed directly at the head of the guard who held her hands. At a nod from Lotor, the guard did so, but Allura found she was still pinned underneath him. She burned with shame when she realized he had not moved his hand.

Keith's lazon sword was out, laid across the Drule Prince's neck at his jugular vein. "Allura," he said, in a voice so low and dangerous that it shocked her when she locked eyes with him, "I am not going to ask if you are all right. I can see that you are not. But nod at me if you are able."

She did, trying to talk to him mind-to-mind, but her head was still too full of pressure and panic to form words, to do anything; instead, closing her eyes, she focused on the Drule guards surrounding them, and thought of the blasters they held. She thought of Lotor's cruel, relentless hands, and Keith, and Lance; and Hunk and Pidge and Sven too, standing before her, witnesses to it all, to her shame, and reached out with the pressure in her mind towards the Drule guards and the blasters they held….

Each of the Drule guards cried out as the blaster he was holding melted like warm butter in his hands.

"Are you doing this, Allura?" Lance asked quietly, his voice deadly soft.

She nodded against the leather glove, tears in her eyes.

"Excellent," Lotor whispered.

"Let her go, Half-breed Drule scumbag, because I'd rather not get your filthy blood on Allura if I don't have too," Keith said, his eyes glazed over with a kind of rage she had never before seen in him.

"Oh, I don't think so, Commander." Lotor, studying Keith intently, rubbed a medallion that had somehow appeared in his free hand, and as he did so, he said, "I don't think I'll let you kill me today, Commander, although I'll be happy to provide you with a rematch. On Planet Doom." As he spoke, he started to shimmer, Allura with him. Watching Keith's face carefully, Lotor reached out and grabbed the Commander's leg as he and Allura continued to fade. "And I think I'll take you with me. How else to best disable the Voltron Force than to take its Commander and its Princess prisoner together?"

Instead of fighting him, Keith threw himself to the side of the princess, wrapping one arm around her as they faded away, his other hand still gripping his lazon sword. The last words the rest of the Force heard as they shimmered into emptiness were Keith's:

"If you're stupid enough to take me anywhere near where you might hurt Allura, then it will be a very short visit indeed."

VVVVV

Lance, blaster still trained on the Drule guard who'd held Allura down, dropped it to the ground. The big Drule was holding nothing but a melted blaster, after all, and Lance was truly afraid he would kill the unarmed guard if he kept holding the blaster on him. Instead, he used his fists, punching the Drule guard over and over, until he dropped senseless to the ground. It did nothing to quell the rage inside him. He turned to his teammates, all of them holding blasters on Lotor's abandoned personal guard. "Sven," he said, voice still deadly soft, "any chance you might let me take over for you with that guard you're holding?"

Sven shook his big dark head. "No, my brother. As much as I would like to follow your example, it will serve nothing."

"I thought you'd say that," Lance said. "Always the voice of reason." He walked over to one of the decorative tables gracing the side of the ballroom and put his fist through it.

"Feel better?" Sven asked, his blaster still trained on the Drule.

"Hell no."

"Didn't think so," Sven retorted.

"Uh, Lance?" Pidge asked, holding his blaster steadily on one of the Drule guards. He was proud of his hand for not shaking. "What are we going to do now?"

"Do?" Lance echoed, as if he had just been asked to recite his ABCs or add two plus two. "What are we going to do now?" he repeated again, incredulous.

He turned briskly and began to walk out of the ballroom towards the new command center, Castle Control. "You, Hunk, and Sven are going to put the Drule scumbags in the deepest, darkest holding cells you can find. Then you're going to sick Koran on them, maybe even Nanny. We have to get as much information out of them as we can." He looked at Pidge blackly and added, "Make sure you tell Nanny what they did to Allura and then lock them all in a room together." Pidge blanched.

"Sven, you're in charge. Contact Galaxy Garrison about the possibility of getting some reinforcements. I know it's a long shot, but what the hell, let's give it a try."

"But if Sven's in charge, that means…" Hunk trailed off.

"Yes, Hunk. You three need to stay here, to protect Arus, just in case. We can't form Voltron, _again_, until we get Keith back, and although I doubt Zarkon will attack again immediately seeing as he just got his butt kicked to the outer ends of the universe and back, we still need some kind of defense." Lance ran his hand through his already wild reddish brown hair. "I'll call if we need the other Lions. If we need backup. If we need Voltron on Doom."

He walked through the new Castle Control, oblivious to the miracle of the new castle around him. "I'm going to Doom. Now. Someone has to get them back, and it's going to be me. Don't ask me why. It's what they both would want. It's what I want. What I need," his last words coming out in a tortured whisper. No one argued.

"Be careful," Koran said, slipping up behind him. Koran handed him a large black duffel bag. "Supplies. Food, first aid. Extra weapons. Covert ops stuff. And, Lance, bring them back. I know you can."

For just an instant, the Lance they all knew was back, laughing, although a little blackly, as he said, "Sure, sure. Been to Doom and back once already, you know. Not much to see, really, so it'll be a short trip this time, I promise." Then his face changed again. He looked shocked and angry, realizing for the first time since they crash-landed on Arus that he was suddenly missing two very large parts of his heart, and he intended to get them back. Immediately. Hoisting the duffel over his shoulder, he descended into the tunnel that led him to his Lion.


	12. Chapter 12: All the Balm in Gilead

Author's note: A sweeter chapter for K&A people, although perhaps it is just the calm before the storm...

Playlist: Skipped through the entire Verve discography, especially "Northern Soul" and "Urban Hymns."

All usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Twelve:

All the Balm in Gilead

Keith watched Allura as she lay curled on her side, her golden hair splayed around her. Every so often, she whimpered, or mumbled words he could not quite make out, and then he would stroke her face and hair, talking to her, trying to calm her. Legs crossed underneath him, he sat with her head in his lap. The room had two cots, but no pillows, and although he could have rolled up one of the blankets to use as a pillow for her, he felt so fiercely protective, looking down at her, thinking back over his failure to protect her from Lotor, that he didn't want to let her go. The enormity of his failure gnawed at him. The irrational part of his mind felt as if having her there, in his lap, under his direct gaze, would somehow ward off all possible dangers. He knew that was silly, even self-indulgent, but nonetheless, her presence in his lap, her light breathing, her golden hair spread out over his crossed thighs, made him feel better, calmer, less likely to kill any number of people: Lotor, Haggar, Zarkon, and even himself, her pathetic failure of a protector.

He worried, too, about why they had been placed here together. As grateful as he was to have her, to be able to tend to her, he couldn't imagine why Lotor hadn't already come for her… he stifled the thought, rage and bile rising within him at the same time. If he did, Keith would be ready for him. He had been disarmed, of course, as soon as they had materialized in front of Haggar, but he knew, from years of martial arts training, that the most deadly weapon he had was still in his possession: his body and his own bare fists. He would not hesitate to use them on that Drule bastard…. _Stay calm, Kogane. Stay centered._

The room they were in was quite an improvement over his last stay in the dungeons of Doom. _No shackles on the wall, either_, he thought, remembering his last "visit" here. _Must be coming up in the world_. The room was fairly large, for a holding cell; in fact, it rivaled the quarters he had shared with another boy as a cadet at Space Academy. It was brightly lit, a bit too brightly, for Keith's liking. The harsh artificial light overhead gave the room a clinical feel that put him on edge. There was even a small private bathroom, which made him grateful for Allura' sake. But one of the walls, he noticed, had a slightly different texture than the other three. Although it was the exact same color as the one he leaned against, with the princess in his lap, it was non-porous and a bit cooler to the touch than the other walls. He looked down at the sleeping princess in his lap. It meant they were being watched.

Allura was exhausted and hurt in a way he had never before seen. He didn't know what to do for her, and it made him anxious and furious at the same time. Furious with himself, and enraged at Lotor. Just as she had begun to recover from her last attack at the hands of the mad Prince of Doom, he managed to get to her again. Keith clenched his fist, nails digging into his palm. His fault. He had promised to protect her, and he had failed. Again. How many times would he fail to protect the women he loved? His mother, Allura… his dead fiancée? His nails left marks on his palms.

It wasn't just that she was physically damaged, which she was, and badly, at that, but also that her mind was… he tried to think of the word. Wrecked? She was spent, mentally and emotionally, in a way that made him worry she might not recover. Her other injuries he had done his best to fix; once they had been dumped in this room, Allura in the grip of the deep unconsciousness that held her now, he awake but groggy from whatever spell had brought them there, he immediately dabbed at her injured lips with warm wet fabric ripped from the hem of her dress, and checked her swollen ankle. Grateful she was not awake for the procedure, he probed and twisted, checking for broken or protruding bones. Finding none, he was fairly certain Lotor had not broken anything, but nothing but a bio-scan would tell for sure. For now, he was trying to keep it elevated, nestled gently on top of the blankets in the room, bound up firmly with some material he had torn carefully from her skirts.

He sat with the princess in his lap, grateful to be with her, but he knew it could not last. He knew they were waiting for something to happen, something that could be a thousand different kinds of horrifying. He needed her to awaken, to plan, to strategize. He needed information only she could give him, about what Lotor had said and done to her before he and the rest of the Force arrived. He needed some clue as to what they wanted. Mostly, though, he just needed her. It frightened him, the strength of his need. "Princess," he whispered, caressing her cheek. "Allura."

She slept on.

_Allura, princess. Wake up, Allura. It's Keith._

She began to stir. _Keith? _she projected.

When she woke fully, it was violent and sudden. Her eyes flew upwards, seeing nothing but blinding white lights overhead. She jumped up and out of his lap, throwing herself off balance and off the bed. She tried to catch herself and landed heavily on her ankle, the sudden shooting pain making her scream.

"Allura!" he was at her side in an instant, pulling her upright against him, taking the weight off her ankle. "Sshh, Allura," he tried to reassure her.

Her eyes, hazy and unfocused, darted wildly around the room. The light made her dizzy, so she closed her eyes. "Keith?" she whispered.

"I'm here."

"Where are we?"

He held her tighter. "I'm pretty sure we're in a holding cell in Haggar's laboratory," he whispered into her ear, making sure her hair covered his face as he did so, knowing they were being watched. "Doom, Allura. Lotor took us to Doom."

"Keith?" she croaked.

"I'm here," he said, again. He couldn't say it enough.

"Can you help me?" she asked, pulling back slightly to squint at him. "I hurt..."

"You have to let me look at your ankle again."

"No, I mean, yes, I hurt there, too, but I mean, I'm hurt inside my head. I can barely see and even the light makes me dizzy and my head hurts so much…" she doubled over, clutching her stomach. "Keith, I'm going to be sick… don't want to… not on you…"

Feeling helpless, he picked her up and carried her to the small bathroom and held back her hair, rubbing the small of her back as she knelt over the basin. "Better?" he asked when she leaned back against him.

"Nnnn…no…. " she whispered, shaking. He felt her cheek with the back of his hand and swore when he realized she was burning up. "Cold. So cold."

He lifted her again, carrying her to the cot farthest from the observation wall, throwing both blankets over her, cursing himself for his uselessness as he watched her shake. He looked at the observation wall, and then back at Allura. They knew. They were watching. They would send help when and if they decided too.

"Cold," she moaned.

With one last look at the observation wall, he dragged the other cot in the room over to hers. He crawled up against her, wrapping his arms around her as she shook, sharing his body heat. It also covered her from the observation wall. "Allura? Can you hear me?" he whispered as softly as he could. She nodded. "They're watching us. We have to be very careful." Still shaking, she nodded slightly again. He took a deep breath. "I know this may be hard for you, but I need you to tell me what happened. With… with Lotor. From the beginning, everything you can remember. We have to figure out what they want from us." Still shaking, he held her tighter. "And Allura?" His voice cracked. "I am so sorry… so sorry I failed you…"

"Didn't fail me, Keith," she murmured as she shook. "You're here now, aren't you? Could have…twisted free…from Lotor." She tried to still her shaking, wiggling even closer into him. "Saved my ppp…planet. I failed my…myself. Want to… learn… you, Lance… teach me…" she took a shaky breath. "Teach me to fight."

VVVVV

"You didn't tell me this would happen, witch," Lotor snarled as he paced the floor back and forth in front of the observation window. "She's a shaking, shivering mess. You specifically told me she would remain unharmed."

"I said her body would heal, my lord," Haggar reminded him. "And it will. I never said there would not be… after effects."

Lotor watched as the woman who belonged to him, the Princess of Arus, shivered in the arms of the man who had twice now threatened to kill him. That he was still living was an insult to the very throne of Doom, but that he had to stand here, watching, while this…_escaped slave_… embraced his princess…

"How much longer, witch?" he demanded through clenched teeth. "How much more of this must I endure before you have what you need?"

_I might ask the same question about you, Prince_, Haggar thought, the grimace she made deep beneath her hood enough to make even Lotor blanch, were he observant enough to see it. Out loud she said, soothingly, "Not long, my Prince. The tremors and the fever should subside by the evening. Her head will continue to plague her for several days, however, and her vision will remain sensitive to light as long as this persists."

"And her powers?"

Haggar smiled, truly delighted with the results of their little experiment. "She has more than exhausted herself for several days, probably weeks, now, but that little trinket I gave you should still offer protection if you are afraid of her powers," she said, watching as her taunt sank in. "And with the energy gathered from the amulet, the power she released in her fear and pain, I have the beginnings of a very special weapon." Haggar smiled. "Your father is quite pleased."

Lotor continued to pace before the observation window. "Why him, witch? Why must they be placed in there _together_?" He punctuated his last word by punching the wall with his fist. As it was made of thick, dark stone, cut from the quarries of Doom itself, nothing happened to it. If it hurt the Prince, he did not show it.

Haggar sent a small tendril of calming energy towards the Prince. Indulged in every possible way since birth, she was used to putting up with his outbursts, but he was not going to like her answer, so she tried to calm him first. "The princess has formed a strong bond with this man, my lord." Haggar increased the calming energy as she continued. "The bond was already forming, but my powers tell me that since her last… ordeal, the princess has developed a bond with this man that is as strong as anything I have seen, as powerful as my darkest magics, and I felt it best to monitor the situation in a controlled environment…"

"What are you telling me, witch?" Lotor snarled, turning to her with bright yellow rage in his eyes. "That by following _your orders_, I helped cement some kind of _bond_ between my princess and this slave? What kind of _bond_ do you mean?" he demanded, fists clenched as if to strike her.

"Easy my lord," Haggar said, but there was a threat beneath her words. In her arms, Coba hissed at him, and she did nothing, this time, to stop him. "Remember that this was something already happening. But when you carried out our plan so excellently, traumatizing the princess into an early arousal of her powers, part of that power latched onto the bond she was already forming with her protectors, making it practically unbreakable, one might even say, everlasting…" Haggar's voice trailed off into a whisper, looking at the pair huddled together. "They will be able to communicate mind-to-mind in most circumstances, they will sense each other's presence, feel each other's pain, fear, injuries, as well as their happiness, joy, love…their souls effectively bonded together, even unto death. To hurt one is to hurt the other. I have read of such things, but never seen it…" She could see the energy shared between the two of them with her witchsight, a pulsing, shining silver cord of light binding the two together. But she frowned as she studied the puzzle, trying to understand the third cord of light trailing from each of them off into the darkness…

"You said _protectors_, witch. Explain yourself. I see only one man in there."

"Yes, Prince. I think there is a third, but he is not here, and distance makes it hard to see…" She sent another small strand of calming energy Lotor's way. There was only one other instance of which she was aware when such a bond had been shared between three people. She had found only a handful of references in one of her grimoires, recalling an ancient Earth legend about a King, a Queen, and a Knight, locked in a similar bond, embattled on all sides as they held their island kingdom together against an onslaught of both science and magic, poised on the brink of the ancient and the modern… but the legend was practically lost to the mists of time… To Lotor, she merely smiled, and said soothingly, "You may have your princess as evening falls, my lord. She will be well enough."

"And the Commander? He is mine as well, as a spoil of war, according to..."

"Drule law, yes, Prince. I am aware of the law. No one will deny him to you. However, your father wishes to question him, so do not kill him yet. And remember, what you to do to one, affects all…"

Lotor, bored with the witch's ramblings, had already begun to plan the evening's entertainments.

VVVVVV

She shivered against him for several more hours. Twice he carried her into the small bathroom and held her hair back while she dry heaved. "A magical hangover," he tried to tease her after, to cover her embarrassment.

"What's a hangover?" she asked, shivering less, but still burrowed into him, still feverish.

"When a person has too much to drink, princess," he said. "Ask Lance, if you want specifics." When she laughed, he felt as if the stars had come out, just for him. "I think you're feeling better," he whispered, very softly, into her ear. If there were listening devices, he wanted them to pick up as little as possible.

"Mmmm," she murmured in agreement, snuggling against him. "Keith?" she whispered.

"What?" he breathed, lips almost directly on her ear. The one Lotor hadn't bitten, he thought, stomach churning. Underneath him, Allura shivered, his lips against her ear, and he did not think it was from fever, this time.

"I want to thank you for listening. It helped, to talk about it, about Lotor. I know it can't have been easy to hear."

He thought through several possible answers. What could he say? That he was sorry he failed her? That he was going to kill the bastard? That he had some idea, now, of what they wanted from them? That, by listening to what happened to her, the military part of him had been able to strategize? Instead, he buried his face in her hair. "Thank you, Allura. Thank you for trusting me." He felt, rather than saw, her smile.

VVVVV

Lance crawled across the rocky, desolate surface of Planet Doom flat on his belly, using only his elbows to propel himself forward. _Damn rocks_, he swore for the thousandth time since leaving his Lion. He had landed Red far enough from his destination to be beyond the routine sweeps of any patrols. Nestled between two fairly prominent rocks, Red waited behind him. He could almost feel the machine purring, just as if he had left his pet cat curled up between two pillows on his bed. _Man, I love my ride_, he couldn't help grinning.

Pidge had called him excitedly not too long after he'd left Arusian air space, going off in techno-babble about cloaking devices and force fields and how these all tied into each Lion's power core. He had listened patiently for about three minutes, thanked him, and asked for Hunk.

"Just tell me what button to push, big guy," Lance pleaded.

Hunk laughed. "It's pretty cool, actually, Lance. Kid's probably keeping your butt from getting busted. At least, right off."

"I'll make sure I bring him a nice souvenir."

"Yeah, ok," Hunk laughed. "All you really need to know is this…"

So Red was protected, thanks to Pidge's research and Hunk's translation, by an advanced cloaking device and a virtually impenetrable force field. Pidge had gone so far as to call it a sentient force field, and while he knew what that meant, he preferred not to think of it too much. _I have a really awesome ride,_ he thought again, creeping slowly across the rocky surface of Doom in his all black covert-ops suit. _Lucky me._ And for once, he was not the least bit sarcastic.

He was not headed for Castle Doom itself. Galaxy Garrison intelligence had provided satellite images of a smaller compound, set aside for the Prince of Doom's own personal use. He was taking a risk, bypassing the Castle in favor of Lotor's smaller compound, but something inside him was telling him that Allura and Keith would be there. _No_, he thought._ Something's pulling me there_. Since Keith and Allura had vanished in a shimmer of magic, he felt a building compulsion literally pulling him towards Planet Doom. He couldn't get there fast enough, and it was almost as if he had a compass inside his chest telling him where to go.

So he crawled on, his thoughts lingering on Allura and Keith. He had tried reaching them through mind-speech, but so far, he had only gotten a feeling of dizziness and a splitting headache that had vanished as soon as he broke contact. It wasn't a good sign, but he didn't think they were hurt. Badly. Yet. So he thought ahead to the escape part of the plan, patting the weapons strapped across his chest, hooked to his belt, stuck into his boots, and last, but not least, the explosives nestled in his backpack. Grinning through his night vision goggles, he fingered the last weapon he'd added, surprised to find it at the bottom of Koran's duffel bag. A lazon sword, heavy and old fashioned by anyone's standards, but it added a rather classy touch, he thought. He wasn't all that good with them, but Keith was the absolute lazon sword master, and he might get a chance to give it to his Commander. God help whoever got in their way then.

VVVVV

"Allura," Keith began, hesitantly. He was about to have a very difficult conversation with her, but it was best to prepare them for whatever lay in wait.

"Mmmm?" she murmured sleepily. She had stopped shaking almost entirely now, but he remained wrapped around her, trying to maintain the façade of her sickness as long as possible. He knew there was no way they could keep it up much longer. He had to do his best to prepare her for what might be about to happen to her, to either one of them.

"I'm not sure what they have planned for us, love, but I have some ideas, and I want you to be as prepared as possible, so please listen and try not to be afraid."

"What did you call me?"

"Uh, Allura?"

"No, after that."

"Oh." He cleared his throat, suddenly gone dry. "I called you 'love.'"

"Good," she said. "It's about damn time. And by the way, I love you, too."

She was not making it any easier. "Yes. Well. Lotor has only ever wanted one thing from Arus, love, and that's you." He felt her stiffen, and he stroked her hair. "I know, it makes me sick and frightened too. I wish I could tell you what's going to happen, and I do have a few ideas, and none of them are pleasant. For either one of us."

"Lance is coming for us," she interjected suddenly.

"I know," he whispered back. "I can feel him. He's near, even. But we have to be prepared to do our part, to hold out, until he can do his part, ok, sweetheart?" She nodded.

"From what you've told me about your encounters with Lotor, I think it likely he will use me in order to get you to agree to his… wishes. Perhaps hurt me badly. But you can't let that sway you. Lotor doesn't see that love and desire is not the same thing, Allura. They go together, in the best of cases, but experiencing the one is not the same as experiencing the other." He took a deep breath, trying to remember how sheltered she was, how he was first, how innocent things had been between them. "If…. if the worst happens, don't blame yourself for things you have no control over, like your body's responses to some… things." He felt his own cheeks flame in the darkness, whether from embarrassment, rage, or both, he didn't know. "Remember that this is his fault, not yours, none of it yours. That's the most important thing I have to tell you. Whatever happens, it makes no difference between us. I love you. Nothing changes that." She clutched him to her. "Oh, and by the way, when Lance shows up and things start exploding, try not to get mad at whichever one of us has to sling you over our shoulder and run for it, Ok?" She sniffed.

All too soon the door swung open, and a group of Drule soldiers entered, pulling him up and roughly pinning his arms behind him. One other held his hand out for Allura, motioning for her to join him. "Highness?" he asked, almost politely. "His Majesty the Prince has requested your presence this evening at his private compound. If you'll accompany me?"

Allura looked at Keith and watched as a kind of mask dropped over his face. Expressionless, he appeared to be looking at nothing, free of all emotion. She thought of his words as she accepted the soldier's outstretched hand. _As if I have any choice_, she thought bitterly. _Hurry, Lance, hurry! _ She projected, as forcefully as she could with her pounding head.

As they left the room, she could have sworn she heard his voice, projected back. _Hang on, sweetheart. I'm coming, and I'm bringing surprises._


	13. Chapter 13: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Author's note: Very long chapter here, but I was having way too much fun to stop. Thought about breaking it into two, but it seemed to flow as is, so what the hey…

Playlist: Muse again, "Absolution," esp. the song "Apocalypse Please." And some of David Gilmour's solo work, esp. the song "There's No Way Out of Here."

All the standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Thirteen:

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Lotor leaned casually back in his chair, his boots propped up on the long, formal dining table set up near the wall of his "studio." The table was large enough to seat eighteen, and was obviously meant for highly formal occasions, Drule-style: the table itself and the chairs ringing it would have been over-sized for your average human, although Keith thought, from his position on the floor, that Hunk might actually have been comfortable in one of the chairs.

The long table was set for two. The head of the table and the place immediately to the right of it were set with many different kinds of gleaming, golden tableware. A flickering candelabra, also golden, reflected light back from the mirrored walls of the place; meant to create an atmosphere of intimacy, instead it gave the scene a ghoulish cast. A cut-crystal vase of red roses completed the setting. And wine. Lotor had not waited for his dinner companion to sample the evening's wine selection. He clasped an over-sized, even for a Drule, jewel-encrusted golden wine glass nearly drained to its bottom. It was the second glass Keith had seen him consume since being brought into the room, his second glass since they'd led Allura away.

The one guard who had offered his hand to Allura back in their holding cell in Haggar's laboratory had continued to treat her with deference, as if she truly was a valued guest, a fine lady on her way to a dinner engagement. He ignored the state of her torn, bedraggled dress, and the fact that she was hobbling awkwardly along on one ankle. The guard had placed her arm firmly through his, effectively allowing her to use him as a crutch. Keith had been shoved roughly along behind them, his hands cuffed behind him, his existence completely ignored. Allura tried to look back at him every now and then, but her guard's hold on her arm ensured that she stumbled badly each time she did so.

"I suppose you're wondering what I'm going to do with you," Lotor said absently, running one long blue finger across the rim of his wine glass. He spoke absently, as if addressing the air, as if speaking about the weather. Keith had been forced to his knees in the middle of the room, pressed against the mirrored wall, ankles tied together, knees splayed apart, with his wrists still bound together behind him. The uncomfortable position forced him to sit with his back straight, supporting most of his body weight through his thighs and upper back. It was a position meant to both exhaust him physically and reinforce the helplessness of a prisoner. It also gave him a perfect view of the dinner table.

"Not really," Keith replied, his own voice equally emotionless. He had slipped back into his Garrison training as soon as the guards came for them, schooling his face, his body, everything about him into an impassive mask, designed to keep captured soldiers from giving away even the tiniest scrap of information to the enemy. Allura, however, having had no such training, had been an open book, fear and apprehension plain on her face. Still, she had carried herself as a princess, spine ramrod straight, head held high. Even limping, hanging off an ugly Drule guard, she had retained an unconscious grace. _She can't hide what she is,_ Keith thought. _I bet even her sweat is blue…._

Which brought his attention back to their blue-skinned host. "Too bad," Lotor said, draining the last of his wine and reaching for the bottle again. "I'm going to tell you anyway." He over-filled his glass, red wine dripping down its sides onto the tablecloth underneath. His hand did not shake when he drank, however, Keith noticed. "I am going to fulfill a promise made when we first met. Do you remember? I promised to teach you a particular lesson…. About the insolence of slaves, I think." Lotor smiled. "But since our first meeting, I've decided that there are other lessons that need teaching, as well, to the both of you…"

"Where is Allura?" Keith asked, holding on to the emotionless mask of his training with difficulty.

"Dressing for dinner, of course. We can't have the Princess of Arus, one of my prized, and most valuable, possessions, appearing before me in… rags, I suppose they were. And damned unattractive ones, at that." Lotor smirked at Keith, taking in his submissive posture as he drained half the contents of his wine glass. "Comfortable, _slave_?" Lotor moved to stand in front of Keith, a glint of insanity in his yellow eyes._ Maybe he's just drunk_, Keith thought, hopefully. _It might make him easier to fight_…

"I wanted you to have a really good view." He drank the rest of his wine and kneed Keith forcefully in the jaw at the same time, without spilling a drop. "Remember that, Commander, that I wanted you to witness this….all of it…" He kneed him in the jaw again, blood leaking out of Keith's tightly closed mouth. "I want her to know you're watching, too…" Lotor hissed. He trailed off as the subject of their conversation herself appeared, limping a bit, through one of the doorways into the room. The mirrored walls caught her reflection, multiplying her image a hundred-fold, and for once, Keith suspected he and Lotor had similar reasons for gasping.

VVVVV

Allura, freshly bathed and towel-clad, stared at the dress, incredulous. "There is no way I will ever wear that."

The two young slave girls kneeling on each side of the floor-length, three-sided mirror dropped their heads. "Would her majesty care to tell us why the dress does not please her?" one of them asked, timidly.

"It's… it's…" Allura struggled to find the words. "I wouldn't wear it as an undergarment," she said, staring at the scrap of red material hanging before her. She hadn't known such dresses existed… at least, not that people wore, in public…

The girls, still kneeling, looked at another. "So it is not of high enough quality?" One of them asked her, voice shaking slightly. Allura looked at the girls closely, realizing they themselves were nearly naked, wearing what looked like a couple of strategically placed scraps of cloth and short dresses of completely sheer silk. "Perhaps her majesty would be pleased to add jewels to her person? We have many jewels to compliment the dress, rubies, firedrops…" the girl looked downward again as Allura realized she was probably trembling with fear.

"I would never hurt you," she told the girls, voice filling with compassion. "I know this situation is not of your making."

"No, majesty," said one of the girls, head down still. "But we have been charged with preparing you, and his Highness the Prince will not be pleased with us." Allura saw the tops of the kneeling girl's backs, realizing they bore the scars of what could only be whip marks. _Dear goddess_, she thought. She paced back and forth in front of the mirror in her towel.

"What will happen to you if I refuse?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"His Highness does not tolerate disobedience, or failure," one of them whispered. "He has been known to punish such faults even with death…"

"And his majesty told us to tell you, if you refused, you could dine in this dress, or dine naked," the other girl all but whispered to the floor.

Allura thought of the warrior goddess of her own planet. _Lyssa, you have blessed me with unsought weapons since I first swore myself to your service_. Allura remembered the ballroom of the palace literally exploding around her, weapons melting, how she could share the thoughts of her friends and protectors…. She swallowed her fear. _Although I am weak, and injured, if I must do this, use my image and make my body a weapon that will weaken even the cruelest of men…_

"Well, we'd better get to work, hadn't we?" She smiled at the girls, motioning them up. "But you must not kneel to me, and try not to be afraid. Your master will be pleased with your work."

She had another bad moment when the girls explained that the shocking red dress was to be worn with nothing underneath it. She said nothing though, merely let them slide the thin red silk over head, and sat still when they went to work on her hair, brushing and curling the waist-length gold until it shone. They wove strands of rubies and firedrops through her hair from the crown of her head to her waist and covered her face with cosmetics until she felt like a painter's canvas. The girls went all out, adding perfume and more jewelry, but she drew the line at the shoes, reasoning that the ribboned heels would never work with her injured ankle. _I can't run in heels, _she thought, thinking ofLance. He would come, he had to… The best compromise they could reach was to rewrap her ankle in matching silk, and to wear a simple ballet-style slipper on her other foot.

When they were finished she didn't recognize herself. _Dear goddess_, she breathed, not sure if it was a prayer or a curse. _Nanny would faint dead away_. The thin red silk flowed over her form like running water, hugging every curve, making her feel more exposed than actual nudity would have. The halter-style top plunged half way to her navel, and the back of the dress dropped dangerously low, exposing her entire back and brushing across the very top of her rear end. _I'll have to take shallow breaths, and not bend over,_ she thought, examining herself in the mirror. _I asked for this, didn't I? Lyssa, make my body a weapon that will weaken our enemies…_ But not Keith, she amended. She didn't want to weaken him. But she wouldn't mind if he stared…

VVVVV

Lance stood with his back to the wall, looking over the satellite pictures transmitted from Galaxy Garrison one more time through his night-vision goggles. _Useless_, he thought, stuffing the so-called map into his explosives-laden backpack gingerly. Everything inside him was screaming at him that this was indeed Lotor's private compound, but the images sent by the garrison were murky at best. They gave a decent overview of Castle Doom itself, of the quarries, slave quarters, and Robeast pits; these were all things the Garrison considered to be of strategic importance. Lotor's little compound, however, didn't merit the same attention. It had been consigned to the same security level as the pleasure gardens surrounding Castle Doom, and the harems…which is exactly what had him worried. As much as it disgusted and alarmed him, he could understand why Lotor would want to bring Allura to such a place. But bringing Keith here could only mean that his Commander was to be part of the "entertainment" for the evening, and Lotor's entertainment preferences concerning enemy combatants were universally known. Dismemberment was one of his milder pleasures. He tried to remember if he'd packed that med kit along with the explosives, blasters, the lazon sword, knives, grenades, flash bombs, the two rifles strapped to his back, tranquilizer guns… and the rope. Had to have rope, he grinned, thinking of the many times having a good length of rope around had saved him during some escapade or other…

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the next round of guards making their way across the top of the wall, talking amongst themselves in Drule. He had chosen his hiding place well, dropping back into the shadows cast by a low statue of King Zarkon, his black special-ops suit and mask blending in perfectly into the darkness. Two rounds of patrols now, each spaced fifteen minutes apart. Each guard unit consisted of three Drule, each armed with only a laser rifle. They were relaxed as they patrolled; from the smattering of Drule he had picked up here and there, most notably during his stint in prison, they seemed to be talking of inconsequential things like _throcht_, a popular card game invariably involving gambling, and how another guard was _lingst_, or cheating. Lance grinned. Some things were just universal, like cheating at cards and admiring beautiful women…. He frowned, listening intently suddenly. He distinctly heard the word "Arus," followed by _riarchess_, or princess, and _pri-aroche._ He stiffened. The most polite translation for that particular word was "mistress," but the guards had used it in a much less complimentary context. Within seconds of the guards rounding the perimeter, he was on his knees, setting the remote detonation charges along the bottom of the wall. He hoped for a quiet, painless exit with his two friends, but explosives and old-fashioned running for it was a respectable Plan B.

_After the next patrol_, he told himself. That would assure him that the fifteen minutes, three-guard routine was a regular pattern. Then he would go after them. As he waited, he closed his eyes, trying the mind-to-mind thing again even though it freaked him out worse than the time he had gotten lost in the supposedly haunted, empty wing of his childhood home. No one had noticed he was missing for two whole days. He shook the past off, and tried to concentrate….

_Keith was getting the hell beaten out of him, chained to the wall in a room full of mirrors. Allura… what the hell was she wearing???? Or not wearing? Crying, saying the words yes, ok, over and over again…Keith looking up at Lotor with hate, but making no sound at all, between the blows…_

Damn, Lance thought, sorely tempted to go now. But caution and planning won out for once. Less than fifteen minutes until the next patrol. _I'm coming_, he projected as hard as he could._ Twenty minutes. I'm coming. Hold on._

VVVVV

Lotor, for once, was speechless. The Princess of Arus was known for her modesty, and he had sent the red dress almost as a joke, rather expecting her to come out wrapped in a bed sheet or a towel or something like that. Never had he expected she would look as she did, red silk clinging to her curves, enhancing rather than hiding. The jewels in her hair gleamed like fire in the flickering light, and he found himself struck speechless, all interest in his prisoner melted away as he watched her draw herself regally erect. He could have spent quite some time just watching her breathe, the thin silk moving in and out with her breathing… was that gold dust sprinkled across her skin? And the view from behind, reflected all across the room, multiplying her image at him from everywhere….it was overwhelming….

Keith, despite the fact that Lotor had moved on to punching and kicking rather than using his knee alone, was having much the same reaction; her appearance in the door was like a blow to the chest from Lotor's boot. He had to remind himself to breathe. _ Garrison torture training didn't cover this_, he thought as he felt his emotionless mask slipping from his face. He would remember this image of her, he knew; it was burned into his consciousness now, but he also knew it wasn't really her, that she was wearing a mask, baiting Lotor, and that was an extremely dangerous thing to be doing right now… _Carefully, love_, he thought at her, struggling to get control of his baser emotions. _He's been drinking, and he's violent…_

Allura only smiled, as if she was doing nothing more dangerous than attending an official dinner on Arus, wearing one of Nanny's pink dresses. She didn't dare look at Keith, to acknowledge she could hear him in any way. Lotor was staring at her, Keith totally forgotten. She had seen Lotor punching and kicking him from the doorway, and even though her Commander hadn't made a sound, she knew he had to be badly injured. _Make my body a weapon_, she prayed, and took one small, limping step forward, trying to look as helpless as she could. "My Lord?" she said, holding out one hand towards Lotor. _Did I just actually bat my eyelashes_? "I am afraid I must ask for your assistance to dinner. I'm a bit… ungraceful, I'm afraid." _Look at me, only at me,_ she thought, hoping he would forget the bleeding, chained man against the wall.

Lotor reached her in two strides. "Allow me, Princess," he said, eyes still locked on her in a way that would have normally gotten him slapped. She smiled, though loathing filled her. He declined her outstretched hand and scooped her up in his arms. "My dear, you look… ravishing." As they crossed the mirrored room, she risked a look at Keith through the mirrors; he'd lost his impassiveness, looking both sick and furious. Lotor sat her down in the chair to his side. It dwarfed her. "Wine?" he offered, towering over her as he filled her glass. She began to decline, but he shoved the glass at her. "I insist, my dear," he said, refilling his own glass, sipping as he regarded her thoughtfully. He looked her over from head to toe, absently touching the firedrops woven into her hair.

"I had no idea you could play this game so well, Allura," he said, raising his glass. "I underestimated you. But that will make this more fun. Right, Commander? Remember the lessons I promised?" he said, turning to Keith, who had finally succumbed to a look of pure fury. "Don't worry, Commander. I won't hurt her. I won't even touch her, I swear it." A look of understanding passed between the two men, fury on Keith's part, and anticipation on Lotor's. "But I promise that this night will haunt you both for the rest of your lives, even as the knowledge that the _Princess_, mine by rights, has given her love to a _slave_ haunts me."

Allura gasped. He knew. Lotor knew, and she had played right into his hands.

_Remember, Allura,_ Keith projected, seeing her panic._ It's not your fault. No matter what. _

Lotor smiled at her then, the frightening orange tint back in his yellow eyes. "Just how much do you want to spare your Commander, Princess?" He kicked Keith in the stomach, but he didn't cry out. "He's strong, I'll give you that, but so am I, and it requires almost nothing on your part to end his torment." Lotor pushed Keith roughly down so that his cheek lay against the floor, his back exposed. "All I ask is a kiss."

"A kiss?" she said, surprised. "From me?"

Lotor uncoiled a long, cruel looking whip from his belt. "Yes, Allura, that's all. Just one kiss." He struck Keith then, leaving a mark that cut through the back of his uniform. He struck again, making another cut, and still Keith said nothing, even as his back started to bleed. "But, Allura, it has to be a real one." He lashed out again. Keith jerked, but still did not cry out. "You have to mean it."

"But I _despise_ you, Lotor. I will never 'mean it,' as you put it," she said, standing, now, shifting her weight to her good ankle.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lotor said, striking again, drawing blood. "For the Commander's sake."

She looked down at him, this man she loved, his uniform in tatters across his back, bleeding. She couldn't meet his eyes. She limped over to Lotor. "Yes, then, if that's all you want," she spat at him. Lotor turned Keith's face towards them with his boot.

"The Commander has to watch," he said, eyes gleaming brightly. "If you don't, Commander, I will take it out on her." He turned to Allura. "I'm waiting."

He was so much taller than her. She tried to stand on her tiptoes, but her ankle wouldn't let her. "You'll have to lean down," she said, miserably.

"But I promised I wouldn't touch you, and I mean to keep that promise, Allura. You'll have to touch me." _Keith I'm sorry,_ she projected as she pulled Lotor down to her by clutching his shirt. She closed her eyes and kissed him, pretending she was elsewhere, anywhere else.

Lotor laughed. "No, Allura," he told her. "I said you had to mean it." He struck out again with his whip, harder than before, drawing blood once again. Keith hissed. She knew he was hurting. She knew she could stop it. _Make my body a weapon,_ she thought, with anger and misery. _Keith, I'm so sorry,_ she projected at him.

This time, when she closed her eyes, she thought of the dream she'd had in what seemed like so long ago. She pictured the goddess at dawn, a woman with hair that flickered like flames all around her, eyes as red as glowing coals, holding five lions on a chain. _What will you sacrifice?_ The goddess asked her in this vision. _What will you give for your planet, your people? What will you give up for this man you love? Will you sacrifice your pride? A small piece of your innocence? Do you dare to test the love you have for each other? _

Allura looked at Keith, at the agony she saw in his eyes. _Forgive me,_ she thought again. This time, when she kissed Lotor, she thought of the goddess, of the flames surrounding her, and felt her hands tighten on his shirt, pulling him closer, her lips moving across his of her own accord, seeking a response….

He pulled back roughly, his eyes a little dazed. "Not bad," he admitted, looking down at Keith, smirking. "I almost think you enjoyed that, Allura." Keith looked back with black hatred. Lotor sighed. "I know, I know, you're going to kill me, and all that…" He slammed down on Keith's back with the whip. This time, Keith did cry out. Allura couldn't bring herself to look at his back, at his shredded uniform, at the bleeding marks there…

"Ok, yes, Lotor, please, stop," she cried out, clutching at his shirt, pulling him to her fiercely. "I'll give you what you want. Just stop hurting him!" She thought of nothing but the flames now, of the fire in the goddess's hair, as she repeated her prayer, _Make me your instrument. Make my body your weapon…_

She slipped her arm around the back of his neck, resting her face against his chest for a moment, inhaling his scent, which was spicy and not unpleasant. His eyes widened in surprise. She placed a series of small kisses up his broad neck, and across his jaw line, stopping finally at his lips, which were parted in astonishment. She kissed him, softly at first, then more forcefully as she pressed the length of her silk-clad body against him. She increased the force of the kiss as his breathing became ragged, moving her lower lip slowly, almost shyly, between his parted ones….

Lotor's hands came up around her sides, crushing her to him even as she heard Keith growl. She pulled back from Lotor, hatred plain in her eyes, and fell backwards when she tried to put weight on her ankle. Her ridiculous dress tangled itself around her legs.

"You said you wouldn't touch me," she cried out, crawling backwards, away from him.

"Well, I lied. And now the Commander gets to watch something much more painful…"

_ALLURA, KEITH_, she heard in her mind, forcefully, very close, _GET DOWN NOW!_

They had one second to look at each other, confirming the other's worst fears about what lay before them: betrayal was in his eyes, a loss of innocence in hers….

Then the entire back wall of the room exploded inward, mirrored slivers raining down like a mixture of glass and tears.

VVVVV

Lance, clad all in black, stood just outside the smoking ruins of what had once been Lotor's massive sound system, blaster in hand, taking in the scene around him. "Nice stereo, Lotor!" he said with an edgy cheerfulness as he inched his way towards Keith, weapon trained on Lotor.

Lotor, thrown forward by the blast, wasted no time whipping out his lazon sword, raising it as he headed towards Allura, who had curled in on herself as protection against the blast.

"I wouldn't do that," Lance said, waving his own weapon at Lotor as he pulled a smaller, lighter blaster off his belt. "Allura!" he yelled, "Catch!" The weapon landed a foot or so away from her. She could have sworn she saw Lance roll his eyes. She tried to move to grab it, but Lotor was on her, grabbing her by her injured foot as she tried to crawl for the blaster. She cried out as he twisted her foot cruelly, but she reached for the weapon still, trying to ignore the pain, reaching…

"One more inch, Lotor. Please. Go ahead and move just one more inch, so I can drive this blade through your back with a clear conscience," Keith said, her father's lazon blade extended from his hand.

She gaped at him, standing there with her father's sword, black fury in his eyes. She barely noticed when Lotor let go of her ankle. She barely noticed when Lance slipped his arms under hers and lifted her upright. She barely registered the blaster he put directly into her hand. "You catch like a girl, you know," Lance told her, slipping her arm over his shoulder, pulling her away from Lotor and Keith as they circled each other, swords extended. "But hey, you sure are dressed like one, so I guess that's understandable…"

"Lance," she said in a quiet, almost hypnotized, voice. "Where did Keith get that sword?"

"I found it in the bottom of a duffel bag."

"What?" she asked, more sharply, her eyes still locked on Keith and Lotor, circling each other.

"It was in the bottom of a duffel bag," he enunciated very clearly and slowly. "You know, a bag you carry things in? With a whole bunch of other junk." He smiled conspiratorially. "I've got some rope, too."

"Do you know what that is?" she whispered.

"Uh, a sword?" He turned to her, running his fingers around her face, feeling her scalp through the mass of jewels, looking for head wounds. "Allura, are you all right? Did you hit your head?" He deftly moved his fingers around the back of her neck and the base of her skull. "I left the med kit back with Red…" he said worriedly.

"But how did he _get_ it? How did he _get it to work_?"

"Don't worry about Keith, Allura. He's great with the lazon sword. Seriously. An absolute master. He'll make a big batch of Lotor kabobs any second now…"

Lance was really worried. He realized he was babbling at her. Her thick hair was so covered with jewels that he couldn't really feel through to her scalp. He looked her over, scanning her from head to toe; although he couldn't see any obvious injuries, like cuts or bruises or broken bones, he knew her ankle was damaged, and that was going to make it impossible to run. One of them was going to have to carry her. They didn't have much time. Thank God he'd had the foresight to set multiple charges, in different locations, to create as much confusion as possible, and hopefully, a decent diversion… Still, they had to get out of here, and Allura was acting traumatized… dressed as she was, he could only imagine what had happened to her. She must be in shock, standing around practically exposed like that…He wished he had his jacket to give her. And with Keith tied up like that…

Keith and Lotor went for each other, and the room lit up like caged lightening.

Lance and Allura just stared, clutching each other. Keith appeared to leap and lunge at Lotor, almost defying gravity as he danced around the Drule Prince's rapidly moving sword. Lotor kept himself in the center of the dance, thrusting and then drawing back into a tight defensive circle, parrying Keith's movements that seemed to have no discernable pattern or direction. Keith danced all around the Drule Prince, dropping to one knee to thrust upward, then bouncing up lightly to land several feet to the Prince's right, trying to get under his guard. The Prince narrowed his eyes in concentration, looking for a breach in Keith's guard, a weakness of any kind, but Keith continued to move around him like a tornado, attacking directly and forcefully head-on before dropping to both knees to swipe at Lotor from below, then rolling rapidly into the hole created by Lotor's defensive step backward, thrusting forward from a kneeling position, feinting backward, parrying and thrusting. Every thrust countered, every parry met, sent sparks shooting into the air, reflecting off the shards of mirror still clinging to the walls and glittering along the floor, and to the two combatants and their awe-struck audience, it was as if time held its breath in a room full of stars.

Explosions rocked the far side of Lotor's compound, followed by a series of explosions that sounded even farther off. Another massive explosion sounded fairly close, followed by one that came from behind Lotor's compound. Lance's eyes were narrowed in concentration. "That's six more to go," he said, and then called to his Commander. "We're moving NOW, Keith. I'm getting her out NOW." Lance turned to Allura looking vaguely apologetic. "This is going to… uh, your dress…" Lance knew the color of his face matched her dress. "Really, Princess, if I had my jacket…"

But she was still staring at Keith as he danced around Lotor. She seemed rooted to the spot. "That's my father's sword, Lance," she said in a whisper. Another explosion came from somewhere off in the distance.

"There go the hangars," he muttered. "Five more. KEITH!" He grabbed Allura around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. "Sorry, princess," he said as he ran for the blasted-out wall.

"KEITH! That's my father's sword!" Allura screamed from Lance's retreating shoulder.

Lotor faltered for just a moment, understanding breaking across his face. He understood the significance, that this… this _slave_ was somehow in possession of the Sword of Altaire…. And looked down at his left arm, incredulous, as Keith sliced deeply through his upper bicep.

"First blood," Keith snapped coldly, before hitting his nose upward and back with the heel of his left hand. Lotor dropped to his knees, swayed sideways, and stayed there, motionless.

Keith took one last look at the unprotected Prince of Drule's exposed side, and looked down at his sword. _Her father's sword._ He didn't know exactly what it meant, but he knew it meant something to her, something important, and he would not use it against an unarmed, unconscious person, no matter how evil or deserving. He turned, instead, to follow Lance and Allura. As he climbed through the massive smoking hole of what used to be Lotor's sound system, he noticed a piece of cover art from one of his favorite albums buried under the rubble. He did not stop to look, because he owned it himself, and had played it many times. But he did wonder, as he raced after Lance's retreating form, Allura's skirt streaming behind her, just when the Prince of Doom had turned into a Pink Floyd fan.


	14. Chapter 14: Collateral Damage

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews and encouragement. This whole process really is helping me with my writing. Which is kind of the point, I guess, besides just sheer pointless fun…

Playlist: a collage of sound called "untitled playlist." Imaginative of me, I know.

And, of course, all usual disclaimers apply- don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Fourteen:

Collateral Damage

Within minutes of escaping Lotor's ruined compound with Allura slung across his shoulder, Lance knew that something was very, very wrong. And he knew it had little to do with trying to sneak around Castle Doom carrying the scantily-clad Princess of Arus over his shoulder past legions of the universe's fiercest warriors while the last of his bombs exploded around them and his freshly-tortured Commander, ignoring any and all possible injuries, kept pace stoically beside him as if taking a walk in a park… no, there was something very wrong between Keith and Allura, which meant there was something wrong with him, too. They had thrown up walls against the link they had with each other, and he, as a part of that link, felt battered by almost overwhelmingly powerful emotions from both sides. How this had happened, going from mind-speech capabilities to feeling as if he was partially welded to their brains, was something he couldn't handle figuring out right now. He just knew he had to get them out.

The escape part of his plan was going surprisingly well; he could sense Keith coming up behind them, and by the time they had cleared the low wall of the first pleasure garden surrounding Lotor's compound, the three of them were together again; even though only two of them were able to run, they nonetheless moved as one unit, soundlessly, seeking out the sheltering shadows, weapons drawn, alert for Drule guards and traps of any kind.

Allura added very little weight to Lance's shoulder; he had angled her feet first for the sake of balance, but this gave the trio an unexpected strategic advantage. Allura, thrown over Lance's shoulder in a decidedly un-Princess-like manner, gave them a literal set of eyes and ears in the back of their heads. She clutched the blaster Lance had pressed into her hand, trying to keep her grip firm and her arms steady despite the intense jostling that was a natural result of being slung over and upside down while moving at a brisk speed. She was grateful Lance had flung her over him feet first; the scandalous… garment… she was wearing was quite distracting given the bouncing that was occurring, especially from the waist up. She set her mouth in a grim line. She would burn the dress at the first opportunity; to her, it had come to symbolize an awakening of a part of her nature that she did not entirely welcome or understand, a part of herself Keith had tried to warn her about when they had been together in Haggar's laboratory, when she had been sick and shivering and he had kept her warm, had taken care of her throughout what he called her "magical hangover"….

She hadn't really understood him, them, when he had tried to talk to her about how her body might betray her, that anyone's would, under certain circumstances, and that Lotor, being who he was, would know this and would use it to exploit her and hurt Keith like no beating ever could. Keith had known this, had tried to warn her in advance, and had promised that, not only did he understand, he wouldn't hold it against her, that he loved her, no matter what, that love and desire were not always the same… She blinked back tears. Despite all this, she hated herself. She hated her own body for not only giving into Lotor, but for responding to him. She could feel Keith's black rage, as powerful as an exploding volcano, and she knew part of it was aimed at her. She knew she had hurt him, whether she meant to or not, in a way Lotor never could…She shared his rage, and, to be honest with herself, some of her rage was aimed at him. How could he expect her to stand there and watch him be tortured over something as inconsequential as a kiss? Would he have been able to do the same for her, had it been her under the whip? But it had turned into something more than a kiss, scarring them both… She realized she was starting to cry, and furiously gulped back her sobs. She had no time for them now.

Lance gripped her tightly but gently around the waist, finding it difficult to concentrate with the waves of thoughts, feelings, and images washing over him, coming from both his friends. Whatever was happening, whatever was going on between the three of them, they were going to have to get some kind of control over it, and soon. Hell, he would settle just for understanding it, if that was possible. It was making it hard to do this job. Confusion, fear, anger, and self-loathing poured off Allura in waves. And Keith…. Lance was suddenly glad, very glad, that they were on Planet Doom and had a fight on their hands. His Commander's mood was very, very deadly at the moment. Keith was consumed in a whirlpool of rage so intense that it threatened to wipe all sense of self….

_Whose sense of self? _ Lance wondered. _ His, or my own? Where are the boundaries?_

As they rounded the perimeter of the last wall surrounding the west side of Castle Doom, Lance looked at his watch. He dropped to one knee and said, softly, "We have to stop here." He put Allura down gently on the ground against the wall, he and Keith covering her with their backs, blasters drawn. "This is the last bit of cover between here and Red. From here on out, it's crawling on our bellies over a mile or so of rocky terrain. It was as close as I could get Red without drawing too much attention."

Keith's mouth was set in a grim line. "I'm not sure that's possible, Lance," he said, glancing down at Allura for the first time.

"I can crawl," she said, her eyes flashing. "My knees and arms work just fine, thanks."

Her words were punctuated by the sound of fighters overhead, launching from the far side of Castle Doom by the hundreds.

"Great, just great," he muttered, closing his eyes.

"I got one of the hangars, you know," Lance, said defensively. "And that was hard to do, you know. And time consuming. I could probably have gotten all the hangars, at least partially, but it would have made me even later getting to you guys, and it looked to me like I was barely in time, anyway…" he hissed, pressing himself even more tightly back against the princess.

Keith counted to ten, trying to quell the rage he felt. Then he did it again, also flattening himself against the princess as much as possible. _Much more and we'll smother her_, he thought grimly. "Look, Lance, I'm not criticizing. Just stating the facts. Her ankle's shredded, has yet to be examined properly, or set, and she'd be cut to shreds trying to crawl anywhere in that…" he gulped. "Dress. Plus, I'm still in my Voltron uniform, and I already stand out like a snowflake in the dark. Might as well put a big shoot me sign on my back…"

Allura, strangely silent, collapsed back against the wall.

"Allura?" Lance asked uncertainly. "You ok?"

"Haggar," she said, eyes closed tightly in concentration. "I can sense her looking for us. With her magic. I'm trying to shield us, create some kind of bubble for us with my mind… it's hard to explain, there's so much of this I don't understand, and I'm still not recovered, mentally, from Lotor's attack back on Arus. And," she flashed Keith a dark, hurt look, "_one of us_ is putting up one hell of a wall."

Keith said nothing.

"How long before she finds us, Allura? Can you tell?" Lance asked, tersely.

"Not long, I'm afraid. I'm not very good at this mind powers thing yet." Her shoulders drooped in defeat. "I'm sorry I'm such a liability. Can't walk, can't use powers I don't really know I have, and besides being a big old piece of Lotor bait, now Haggar wants me, too…"

"Allura." Keith addressed her directly for the first time since they'd entered Lotor's compound. "Please do not refer to yourself as bait in the same sentence as the word Lotor, ever again," he said, anger making his voice flat. Lance whistled softly, nervously. He knew Keith to be the kind of man who did not yell when he was angry. Instead, he got quiet. Deadly quiet. "And you are not a liability," Keith added, fighters circling overhead. "We will find the solution. Lance, how long will it take you to crawl to Red Lion?"

"Alone, it took me twenty or so minutes, but I was going pretty slow and careful. With you two, maybe fifteen? If Allura can…." He had been about to say, "keep up", but thought better of it.

"And in a flat-out run, carrying Allura?"

"I dunno, Keith. Ten minutes? Twelve?"

Keith shook his head. Not good enough. He and Lance looked at each other.

"I can be back, with Red, as fast as that," Lance affirmed. "But that leaves you here, plus it might alert the Castle, and those fighters. Pidge clued me into one hell of a cloaking system, but I'm not sure how that will work, here on the ground…. probably have to drop it to do a pick-up," he said, looking at Allura, who was concentrating so hard, eyes closed and mouth set, sweat was breaking out across her brow. "We might have to fight our way out," he concluded.

"And have all the forces of Doom at our backs while we fly hell-bent for Arus?" Keith asked.

"The boys are ready for it," Lance countered. "I've had them on stand-by."

"But we don't have Black, and that means no Voltron," Keith hissed. "We'd be bringing the legions of Doom back to Arus."

"No worries." Lance smiled. He began to strip himself of the remaining weapons he carried, unstrapping lazon rifles, releasing blasters, pulling knives from his boots, and gingerly easing his backpack to the ground beside the two of them, keeping only one blaster for himself. He shoved it into the back of his belt. Tossing Keith a comm. unit, he said, "Pidge figured out a way to tow Black. He thinks he can get the Lions to attach long enough to get you into Black, and we can fight these bastards before we're even halfway to Arus." Lance paused. He did not want to ask the next question, but he felt it would be irresponsible not to. "Keith, I have no idea what Lotor did to you or how badly you're injured. Can you fly?"

He thought he saw Keith smile in the darkness. It was a dark, bitter smile. "You saw me…how did you put it to Allura? Make Lotor kabobs? And you ask me that? That's a week of double P.T., soldier." Lance thought he was kidding. Maybe.

"Well, hell Commander, a guy's gotta ask. And watch out for my ordinance, _sir_. I'm only letting you hold it 'cause it might slow me down."

Allura's head snapped up, eyes unfocused and hazy. "She's found us."

Lance was gone before she finished speaking.

VVVVV

They sat with their backs against the wall, waiting for Lance to come for them in Red Lion. Keith crouched, his back towards Allura, with a pile of weapons and explosives underneath him. He fingered the sword Lance had given him, attached to his belt now. He would have to ask about it later. It was meant to be a protective stance, but as he felt the waves of misery and self-hatred pouring off the Princess behind him, almost boring a hole in his back, he began to feel more and more like a jerk. How did one begin a conversation with someone who'd been through all of…that…with you? And was sitting there, miserable and injured, in ways he couldn't even see, to go through even more? More fighting, more killing, more promises he couldn't keep?

"Then don't make any more," she whispered, sitting up closer, as close as her extended leg would allow. "Don't promise to protect me. It's enough that you want to. Teach me how to do it myself." He could hear anger there, in her voice, and it was hard not to react, to take it personally. He had failed…she was blaming him…

"Get over it, Keith," she whispered. "If I'm blaming anyone it's myself. So you failed. I failed. So what. People fail. My father died, promising to protect me since the day I was born, and he died, so he failed. Alex…" she choked out, "promised me too, to protect me, and died failing to do so, his love for me on his lips. Your fiancée died, and she promised to love you forever before she did, I know she did, because I know the kind of man you are. I know you feel it like a failure, like abandonment. I can imagine how that hurt." She plunged ahead, despite his hiss of pain, of warning, that she was bringing up a forbidden subject, but she didn't know what lay before them, and she was determined to break through the black wall he'd built around himself. "I know words are hard for you, and it's your bad luck that I don't need your words to talk to you. Or maybe it's my bad luck. I don't know anymore." Allura pulled herself up into a ball as much as she was able, pulling her legs up against her chest gingerly, mindful of her ankle.

"I am miserable," she said, finally. "Do you know how I feel, sitting here, looking at your back? Do you know what you look like, what I see? Can you guess, through that black wall of rage you're hiding behind? Your uniform is in shreds. You have whip marks about three to four feet long up and down your back. They are bleeding. Most of the bleeding is fresh, and it has seeped through your once-white uniform. It hangs in red tatters down your back. In places, your uniform is welded to the few of the whip marks that are scabbing over, and they will have to be pulled loose, and then you'll bleed again. And all of this because of me? I have no idea what else he did to you physically, but I can guess how you hurt inside. How betrayed you feel. You told me… …you warned me, you _knew…_you told me not to blame myself, _that my body would react,_ that it wasn't my fault, but Keith…" Allura was sobbing openly now, rocking herself with her arms around her knees, "it was my fault, he did it because of me, and when I tried to stop him hurting you, I hurt you even more... the goddess asked me, she came to me, I asked her to help me to fight, to use the last weapon I had left, my image, my body…. She asked _if I dared to test our love_…and I'm afraid, Keith, because it's _all I have left_…I'm afraid it's not strong enough, that I failed, that _we failed_…and I hate myself for it, for what I did, for what you had to see, that it's ruined, like my planet, like everything else…"

He turned back to her, watching her rock herself and crying against the wall. She had this way of choking and sobbing at the same time, and still being able to talk. He thought about that. He knew her crying and her sorrow much better than he knew her smiles and laughter. He didn't know what kind of flower she liked, for instance, or what her favorite color was. Basic things that people should know about each other first before they found out the shape of their worst nightmares.

Beverly's favorite color had been blue. Her favorite flowers had been buttercups. It frustrated him, because buttercups didn't grow in New York City, and they were hard to find in flower shops. He knew. He had tried. She liked to eat in bed on Sunday mornings, strawberries and coffee balanced precariously on a plate at her elbow, the newspaper spread out all across the bed, wearing his T-shirts, which dwarfed her, instead of nightgowns. She had never been shot at, or kidnapped, or held prisoner. The view from their apartment window was full of busy streets and people with homes and jobs to go to, not of a world turned to ash. When she cried, she did it softly, trying to hide it, and sometimes it would be several minutes, or even longer, before he realized and moved to her to pull her into an embrace. Beverly crying was the worst thing in his world, a year and a half and several lifetimes ago, before that fateful plane crash, before the Garrison had recruited him to chase a myth and a dream…

He turned to Allura. She was sobbing over the sound of Drule fighters overhead, holding herself because no one else had for so long, since her parents died, earlier, even than when his did, and because he was bad at this, so bad…He pressed himself flat against the wall beside her, whip marks stinging, and gathered her awkwardly into his arms. "Ssshh," he told her, as he had always whispered to Beverly when he finally clued in to her tears. The stench and darkness of Planet Doom hung around them like a shroud. "I'm so bad at this," he whispered through her hair, her ridiculous, jewel-encrusted hair. "Please be patient. I'm so bad with words, with feelings." He rocked her some more. "Lance will be here soon, and we'll have to fight some more, and it will be hard, and scary, but you're a fighter, Allura, and we'll be fighting together," he whispered, still rocking. "But I want to know some important things first."

"Whh… whh… what?" She sniffled, wiping her wet face across his sleeve.

"What's your favorite season? I like fall, because everything's as alive as it will ever be." She looked at him, shocked, as if waiting for the punch line. "Do you have a favorite flower? A favorite color? A favorite book, or writer?" She was still gaping at him. "I was just thinking that we're getting it backwards. People should know these things about each other. Before they see fighting and nightmares and death." He took a deep breath. "My favorite flowers are roses, preferably red. I like the color blue, my favorite book is _To Kill a Mockingbird_, and I like the poetry of John Keats. What about you? Do you have any of those things?"

She stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, but at least, thank god, she'd stopped crying. "There are no seasons on Arus, since Zarkon's first annihilation when I was little. No flowers, either, but I remember some from my mother's garden, when I was very little. I think they were lilies. They were white, with yellow centers. I like blue, too. It reminds me of my mother's eyes. I've only read books about Arusian politics, etiquette, and military strategy. I don't like them. But I love John Keats, and his poem 'To Autumn.'" When she turned to him, she could easily have leaned in to kiss him, but she didn't. "I guess we have that in common, at least," she said sadly, as the soft whir of Red Lion's cloaked presence announced itself nearby. Then the Lion itself appeared, opening its mouth into a kind of ramp. He could have sworn it was purring. Lance peeked his head out.

"Guys?" he said, impatiently. "We've got about two minutes before those Drule fighters clue in." He ran down the ramp, ready to grab the Princess once again, but Keith stopped him with a gesture.

"No, Lance. I've got her this time." Instead of throwing her over his shoulder, he scooped her up against his chest as he carried her up the ramp and into the purring Lion.

VVVVV

"Well, hey, wow," Lance said, eyeing the cockpit dubiously. "I didn't realize it had two jump seats."

"Maybe it didn't," Keith said cryptically. Pidge and Hunk thought the Lions had the ability to somehow anticipate their needs and make accommodations for them, when possible.

Lance ignored him. He'd had enough magical weirdness to last him quite awhile. It might not make it go away, but at least he could ignore it. Or try to. He opened a storage compartment behind the pilot's seat, pulling out an extra blanket and a med kit. He tossed them to Keith, saying, "There's pain meds in there," before turning to Allura and, with a courtly bow that would have done even Koran proud, offered her his battered leather jacket.

"Your Highness," he intoned, only slightly mockingly, "as much as I admire your attire, it would be my greatest honor if you would accept this humble, but most treasured possession, to adorn your Royal person."

She slid into it eagerly and zipped it shut all the way up to her chin. As she rolled the sleeves back several times so it didn't cover her hands, she gave Lance the first genuine, lighthearted smile that had left her lips in days. "You have no idea how good this feels, Lance," she told him, the happiness in her eyes making him feel a little lightheaded.

"No problem, Princess," he replied softly, forgetting, momentarily, that he was possibly about to have to fight his way out of Planet Doom's circling fighters and planetary defense systems.

Keith felt a little differently about the looks exchanged between them. "Lance?" he asked, as he and Allura strapped in. "Do you want me to drive?"

"Are you kidding? Hands off my baby, Commander. You've got your own ride coming." He swung himself into the pilot's seat, the safety harness coming up around him automatically. "Besides, red just isn't your color," he added.

As he slipped into his white Voltron helmet, a striking contrast with his sleek black suit, he seemed to become almost a different person, the cocky old Lance giving way to someone a little different, someone older, more confident. "Let's go, Voltron Force!" he cried out, pulling back on the control bar at the exact same moment his Lion roared. As Lance let out his customary whoop, Red Lion shooting upwards in a streak of flames, Keith looked over at Allura. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so enraptured, and fought back a stab of envy, wondering if it came from finally being off Planet Doom, from the sheer joy of flying, from Lance, or from some combination of the three. Perhaps it came from the three of them being together, no longer trapped and land bound, but soaring upward towards Arus, towards what was becoming home, even though they would have to fight their way there. _Isn't that how it's supposed to be, though_? _Don't you have to fight to get what you want_? He looked at Lance and Allura, and felt his own face splitting into a grin, and wondered just what it was that he wanted, and how hard he was going to have to fight to get it.

VVVVV

"I thought this thing was supposed to have an unbeatable cloaking system," Lance complained as he burned his way through two Drule fighters headed straight for them in a game of aerial chicken.

"Take it up with Pidge," Keith complained, hating the feeling of being strapped into a jump seat like some…some…_ passenger _during a firefight.

"We are passengers," Allura reminded him, "and I think Haggar found some way to break through. Probably because of me," she added, muttering darkly.

"Would you stop _doing that_?" Keith said, annoyed.

"Which part?" Allura snapped at him. "Reading your thoughts? Or blaming myself? Because, believe me, _Commander_, I would love to be able to stop doing either one of them…"

"No offense, people, but please _shut the hell up_ while I am trying to get us out of here. And I mean _verbal AND mental bullshit_, please." Lance pulled sideways on the control bar as Red Lion swooped around a line of Drule fighters in a double-helix formation, lion torches and lasers making contact with the enemy as he blazed through their midst.

Allura did as he asked. Normally, she would have slapped him for it, or tried to, but she was a bit shocked to discover that instead of being frightened, she absolutely loved what Lance was doing. Instead of clutching her safety harness and closing her eyes in fright, she found herself leaning out as far as she could to get the best view.

"Hell YES, Lance!" She found herself yelling when he flew directly between two smaller Drule fighters, almost brushing the tips of their wings, while the three or four Drule fighters chasing them crashed directly into the two they had just barely slipped by.

Keith stared at her. She was practically squirming in her seat like a kid on a roller coaster, just before it went over the edge.

Under the weight of Keith's open-mouthed stare, she realized what she had done, what she had said, and blushed prettily. "Oh, sorry, Lance, I forgot to 'shut the hell up,' as you requested," she said, contritely.

She couldn't see Lance's grin, but it was a mile wide. "It's ok, Princess. Cussing and yelling doesn't count," he said.

As Lance continued to dodge and weave through Drule fighters, Planet Doom shrank behind them in the distance. _Thank the goddess_, Allura thought, wondering if a prayer fell under the "mental bullshit" category.

_Probably not,_ Keith projected at her, smiling at her raised eyebrow. _Two can play at this game,_ he couldn't resist adding.

"Or three," Lance yelled, "even though one of them, the one who's flying and blowing shit up, requested the other two _stop it_."

"It's just a prayer. We need all the help we can get." Allura snapped back, before she sensed, rather than saw, the massive energy burst pulsing from one of the planetary defense system satellites. "Lance! The satellites!" she screamed. "They're about to release…"

Red Lion shuddered and spun as a massive burst of laser energy hit it squarely on the side. Allura was sitting on that side, and she screamed as she got the worst of the impact, her head rocking back and cracking against Red Lion's side. Lance swore, grappling with the controls, touching flat screens all around him as he got Red back under control. "Shields took a hit, but she's holding," he told Keith, pulling back on the control bar in an attempt to shoot upwards out of satellite range. "I'm cutting non-essential operations to hopefully give us some speed."

Keith, aware of the stupidity of his actions, released his harness and was in front of Allura, shaking her, calling her name. "Allura! Can you hear me?" She was out cold. He thought about his options. He could try sticking her with a standard-issue stimulant from the med kit, if he could find it, or, he could try something old-fashioned… "Allura!" he yelled, shaking her one more time before he…

"Why don't you try reaching her mind-to-mind before you slap her, Commander?" Lance asked sharply. "Maybe if we both take turns yelling at her…"

ALLURA, he projected, feeling instantly ashamed at his panicked reaction, at his failure to carefully think things through. He could hear Lance doing the same, yelling her name in his head while Keith tried to talk to her; ALLURA, IF YOU CAN HEAR US, PLEASE WAKE UP…

She groaned a bit and sat up. "There's no need to yell," she said, rubbing her head.

Keith reached around and ran his fingers over her scalp, finding it impossible to feel through the rubies and firedrops woven into her hair. "Damn jewels," he muttered.

"I'm ok," she snapped. "Strap yourself in, please. I don't want you hurt any more on my account," she said softly, looking a little guilty.

"Cancel that, Commander", a voice broke in over the comm. system. "The cavalry has arrived."

"Sven!" The three of them exclaimed, all at once.

"Who's got Black?" Keith snapped, instantly back into "Commander" mode.

"Black is attached to Green by a force field devised by our young wizard here, Pidge," Sven explained. "Hunk and I will run interference in Yellow and Blue Lions while Red moves in under Black. Pidge will then activate the force field below Black Lion, joining the two Lions long enough to let you transfer, Commander. Pidge swears there's a way, a hatch or something, that will appear when you're ready."

"I'm doing it already, guys," Lance said, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Those satellites of theirs pack a nasty punch, by the way. I think we evaded the defense systems on the ground because the air was too thick with fighters, but I wouldn't be surprised if those kicked in, too. Hopefully, we're out of range," Lance explained, talking easily the entire time as he guided Red Lion under Black. "Ok, Pidge, do your thing," he said, satisfied.

They heard the metallic clang of contact and looked up to see, just as Pidge had promised, a hatch with a keypad beside it.

"Be careful, Keith," Allura said, as he punched the button on the keypad. Sure enough, an opening appeared between the two connected Lions, and Keith found himself looking up into the cockpit of Black Lion.

He looked down at Allura as he hoisted himself up. "I always am, Allura," he answered. "Take care of her, Lance," he said, deadly serious.

"I always will, Commander," Lance returned, just as solemnly. The hatch between the two Lions shut; Lance kept his eyes on the battle before them as he told her, "Hang on, honey, things are just starting to warm up."

Allura leaned forward, excited in spite of herself. "Don't make me any promises you can't keep. Show me, Lance," she commanded, eyes huge as Red Lion swooped forward to join the fray.


	15. Chapter 15: Endings and Beginnings

Author's note: Took me long enough didn't it? :) And thanks to Mertz and LotornoMiko for their extra chapters. I really enjoyed those and hope to come play in the "M" rated and Lotor-lovin' side of the sandbox one day soon….

Playlist: Warren Zevon (may he rest in peace); along with some old favorites I've already mentioned previously. (I just scored Calexico tickets. Woo-hoo!)

All standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc.

Chapter Fifteen:

Endings and Beginnings

Allura's eyes lit up like the dawn as she strained forward as much as possible, as far as her safety harnesses would allow. She watched as stars and fighters whizzed by her, as long lines of lasers shot alongside Red Lion. Acutely aware of his enraptured audience, Lance pulled back on the control bar, putting as much speed as he could into his climb, until he had pulled Red Lion high enough that the two of them could look down on the battle raging below them. To Allura, it looked like the Lions were at play, outpacing the Drule fighters attempting to encircle them, weaving in and out of laser fire and missiles, looping around the larger fighters while attacking with steel claws, long, wicked-looking blades extended from their mouths, ice blasts, cannons that appeared and disappeared on their backs, and always, laser blasts and missiles… weapons she couldn't identify and had never even heard of. These were hers, they were in her blood, these Lions, the defenders of her planet, her people, these sleek, beautiful machines created by her ancestors, who even now were clashing and clawing their way through the ranks of her enemies…. She felt the tears, but she was unsure what emotion drove them; she felt so many….

"It's something, isn't it?" Lance asked her softly, almost reverently, looking at her with something like tenderness from his chair. He had swiveled around to face her. Feeling the intense emotional storm brewing in the back of his cockpit, he wanted to see the Princess's face himself, to see the emotions that he shared in her eyes.

"It's wonderful," she breathed. "But aren't we in danger, sitting here like this?"

"We're on autopilot and I've activated a powerful force field, courtesy of Pidge. We can't stay long, but I wanted you to see this, Princess, from up here, before we get down into the thick of it." He wanted to reach out to her, touch some part of her, feel her skin… he felt his own emotions gathering and forced them back, fiercely. No. Not his. Never his. But he would serve and protect her, his life to her service, and as for the rest… he just didn't know. They were off the map here, all three of them… "We're safe, Princess, for now. I would never intentionally put you in danger," he almost whispered, his voice a bit strangled as he looked at her. "Things are about to get very, very crazy down there, and I wanted to take just a second to check you over, if you don't mind." She made no objection, merely extended her injured ankle out a bit. She turned her eyes back to the stars, and to the battle below.

He slipped out of his safety harness and dropped to his knees before her. At the same time, he grabbed the med kit and pressed his comm. unit. Keith's voice flooded the cockpit.

"Kogane here. What's going on, Lance? Everybody all right up there?"

"I wanted to take just a second to check the Princess over, make sure we aren't dealing with any serious injuries before I haul us back down there," he said, his attention turned to her ankle. It was still wrapped in thin red silk, a bit tattered…"From up here, it looks like you guys have things pretty well in hand."

"True," Keith agreed. "For now. We're clearing away those fighters, but that leaves us more accessible to those satellites…. At any rate, try not to be up there like sitting ducks for too long. And give me a status report if… there's anything serious."

_You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here,_ Allura projected at both of them. _And Keith, you were hurt much worse… I think you probably have some broken ribs…_

"We're going to keep communication open and verbal, Princess, as much as possible. It's what we're used to in combat situations. Report when you can, Lance. Kogane out."

"Don't take it personally, Allura, he's in 'Commander' mode, and he's a damn good one. " Lance said affably, cutting through the layers of red silk gingerly, sliding his finger under the thin material slowly, and coaxing it off her skin inch by gentle inch. Allura threw back her head and shivered, biting her lip.

He looked up at her anxiously, afraid of hurting her, feeling, suddenly, as if was handling delicate glass. But he hadn't _felt_ any pain coming off her…"You have to tell me if I hurt you." He frowned, not recognizing the emotion. "You're not ticklish, are you?"

She looked back down at him, her eyes wide, voice a hoarse whisper, as she said, "No. Not hurting." She blushed a deep, dark crimson red. "Or ticklish."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Oh," he said, his face suddenly as red as hers. They both looked down at the task at hand, embarrassed.

When the silk fell away from her ankle, he winced. Her ankle had completely disappeared into the swelling so that her entire foot lacked definition, and was nearly black throughout. "Uh, this is bad," he announced, sitting back on his heels.

"It does look a bit worse than when I saw it last," she admitted. "When… they were dressing me…"

"How badly does it hurt?"

"Not much."

He sighed, still rocked back on his heels. "I can tell you're lying, you know," he said. "Pain meds?" She shook her head furiously. "Ok, I respect that. I hate feeling fuzzy headed unless I plan on staying that way for a while. How's your head?"

"It hurts like hell, Lance. I cracked it on your Lion, and I still have a "magical hangover." At his rising eyebrows, she laughed. "Keith's term. He actually told me to ask you about hangovers… but I've been 'hangovered' from the magic they drained away from me… when Lotor attacked me, he woke up my powers, made them stronger, probably, than they would have been… and Haggar drained me of them. I have no idea why, but it can't be good."

"Can you still do things like melt blasters?"

"Not right now. They drained me dry. But maybe soon… I don't know much about it, my parents would have told me as I got older, but I think it's like a battery, so maybe soon…"

Lance pulled a scanner from the med kit and ran it up and down her body, lingering first on her foot, where he winced, and then on her head, which made him frown. He hit his comm. unit.

"Kogane."

"Basic bio-scan says she may have a concussion. But there's so much fuzziness in her head… I think you coined a term for it… she's 'magically hungover,' so it's impossible, really, to tell. But her foot… it was bound too tight, and it looks… uh, it's bad, black, badly swollen… I'm going to splint it, loosely, but she needs Med Center."

Keith was silent for a moment. "Go ahead with that Lance. As fast as you can, and I need your butt back down here. No painkillers in case of concussion. Sorry, Allura. But Med Center is going to be problematic. We've got a coffin. Kogane out."

Lance swore and began moving quickly, applying a flexible brace to the inner side of her ankle, then wrapping it loosely with a flesh-colored, porous bandage that stuck to itself. He looked up at her, still kneeling.

"You're worried," she said, already knowing. "More than you would be if I wasn't here." He nodded, blue eyes narrowed. She looked regretful. When she reached out to brush back his reddish-brown hair, he closed his eyes, electrified at the contact.

"Don't worry, Lance," she whispered. "You're one of my knights, too. The one in the battered leather jacket? I'll be fine with you, I know it." He smiled, already moving to strap himself in. "Besides, you get to give me my first ride in Voltron," she said, excitedly.

"Do me one favor, Princess," he said quietly, touching screens across Red's control panel and grabbing the control bar, preparing to dive. He removed his helmet with one hand and, swiveling partially toward her, said, "Wear my helmet. Please. I have it on good authority that my head is as thick as a cement block." She accepted, pulling it over her jewel-encrusted hair. Lance hit his comm. unit as he plunged Red Lion into the fray. Below them, the coffin from Doom was separating, its top rising slowly. "Orders, Commander?"

VVVVV

Keith did not like the situation one bit. Although he and the rest of the Lions had done a good bit to clear out the remaining fighters while Lance checked Allura over in relative safety, they hadn't been able to get every single one. But now, with the sudden appearance of the coffin, every Drule fighter in the immediate area was withdrawing, and fast. He didn't like it. Either they had decimated Zarkon's forces to the point that he couldn't risk losing a single more fighter, or they were dealing with something so dangerous even their friends the Drule fighters did not want to be near it. He doubted it was a case of the former; Zarkon, having conquered thousands of planets and therefore having access to nearly unlimited resources, was probably not out of fighters. That left only the second option.

"The fighters are pulling back," he responded to Lance. He could sense an excited Allura in the cockpit of Red Lion with his friend.

"Do you want us to give chase?" Sven broke in.

"Negative. There's not enough left to make it worth out while. Besides, I have a very bad feeling about that Robeast."

"Who ever has _good_ feelings about Robeasts?" Pidge wondered.

"Maybe their mothers?" Hunk suggested.

"Funny, guys," Lance broke in. "You've coined a new saying: 'a Robeast only its mother would love.' Priceless." They could hear Allura giggling in the background.

"Hey, how'd you like the show, Princess?" Hunk asked her over the comm. system.

"Most impressive, Hunk. I'm just jealous you got to have all the fun," she answered back teasingly.

"That may not be the case for much longer, I'm afraid," Keith cut in. "Here's the plan. We're still too close to Doom for my comfort." As he spoke, the team watched the coffin lid rising more and more. They could begin to make out what was underneath, but it lacked details…. "I want us to try and lure that thing as far out from Doom as we can, but not so far we run the risk of bringing a battle anywhere close to Arus."

"Those defensive satellites may decide to join in the fray, and we may have another onslaught of fighters the longer we hang around. Sven and I are going in to check out that coffin and see what slithers out. Maybe we can get a few good swipes in before it fully hatches. Sven, we're going to do our best to really piss it off. Besides damaging it as much as we can, we want to make it as angry as we can so it will head right for us."

"Brilliant, Keith. I live to antagonize Robeasts with you. Much more fun than poker," Sven said, then added something in Norwegian.

"What's poker?" they heard Allura whispering to Lance.

"Oh, just a card game you play with friends…I'd teach you, but I'm not very good at it…" he whispered back. Pidge snickered.

"Focus, people," Keith cut in sharply. They could see a kind of silvery mass emerging from the sides of the coffin, but it still lacked definition…no arms, no wings…

"Pidge and Hunk, I want you guys running interference at our backs. It bothers me how those fighters pulled out so suddenly, so look sharp in case they decide to come back. If you get a chance to get in a few licks at that Robeast, great, but I want you two to concentrate on protecting Lance and the Princess."

There was a shocked silence before Lance burst in, angrily, "Now listen, Keith, you can't just expect me to hang back…" while Allura tried to talk over him at the same time, voicing her indignation.

"Lance, you're carrying precious cargo. Injured cargo. Your first priority, until I tell you otherwise, is to protect the Princess. When and if it becomes necessary to form Voltron, we'll deal with it. Those are your orders, Lieutenant. Are they clear?"

"Yes sir," Lance grumbled. He didn't have to like his orders, but he would stick to them. Allura said nothing. Keith could feel her anger anyway. He'd just have to try to explain, later…

He gripped his controls, putting speed into his thrust as he headed straight for the coffin and the emerging Robeast. "Sven, stay at my four for now," he said, as they flew straight at the thing's emerging form. He realized, as they closed in, that they appeared to be dealing with an amorphous, silvery blob. How were they supposed to fight something with no form?

"Sven? What do you think?" he asked the Blue Lion pilot shadowing him on his right.

"Looks like a big ball of goo," Sven said. "I doubt cutting it would be the most effective… let's try ice…" Sven let loose a powerful blast from Blue Lion's ice cannon. It hit the thing's side, but the blast of ice appeared to have no effect whatsoever. The silvery blob just absorbed it. Keith's unease increased.

"All right, then, Sven, we'll just have to let loose with all we've got," he said, blasting it with laser fire and torpedoes, "and remember, the goal is to annoy it into chasing us…."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem, Keith," Sven said, as the strange Robeast erupted completely out of its coffin, heading right for them, making an eerie, high-pitched whine. How it was making the noise was a mystery to the Voltron Force; they stared, horrified, as they realized the Robeast had no mouth to scream with, let alone arms, legs, or even a head.

"Wow," breathed Pidge. "That thing doesn't even have a face for a mother _to_ love…"

"I've got to find out what it's made of," Keith said, diving straight for it. "I'm going to try to cut it, to see what kind of… surface, or mass… we're dealing with." Lion blades extended, he circled the thing, realizing he didn't know if he was in front of it or behind. "Pidge, do what you can to get some kind of analysis on this thing…"

"Already on it," Pidge said.

Keith dove for it, using blades and extended claws to try and get some kind of grip on the thing, to tear it, to get any kind of hold. Like the weapons he and Sven had fired on it, though, Black Lion's claws just seemed to get…stuck, as if he had just run head first into a giant ball of glue. He fired backward with Black's thrusters, but the thing would not let go…. "It's not giving," he said over the comm. system. "I can't get free." Fighting panic, he started to tell Sven to pull on Black from behind, when he felt Blue Lion clamp on to Black's back leg with its massive jaw.

"Got you," Sven said, thrusting backwards with Blue.

It was slow going, a testament to the creature's strength and genetic make-up that Sven had to fight to keep Keith from being more fully absorbed into its surface.

"Gotcha, Commander," he heard Pidge say, just as he felt Green Lion clamp down on his other leg. It took the combined strength of both Lions to pull Black free of the silvery blob, and once he was free, the thing began to pulse just like a giant, silvery heart, floating free in space.

"I needed to get that close to get some readings, Keith," Pidge said, "and I hate to tell you this, but it's not a Robeast. Yet. It's some kind of protective skin, a coating, of some kind, and the energy fluctuations associated with the pulsing indicates that it's about to… explode, or hatch, or something…"

"You're telling me this thing is about to explode? And that's there's something else underneath it?" Keith asked, with mounting horror. "Pull back, everybody, pull back…."

He had just enough time to be grateful for having ordered Lance and the Princess to stay back when Black Lion, with Blue behind him, was pushed forward by an explosion of heavy liquid silver that felt like electric fire. He had time to realize, as he saw his teammates, all of them, including Red Lion, caught up in the same explosion of silvery matter, that the pain, although he could feel it throughout his body, was centered entirely in his head, even though he felt as if he was burning at the stake….

VVVVV

_"Keith? Can you hear me? Can anyone hear me?"_

_"Allura?" _

_"Keith! Thank the goddess! You can hear me. Someone can hear me…"_

_"Where are the others?"_

_Silence._

_"Allura? Allura!"_

_"I don't know. I've been calling and calling. Only you answered."_

_"Where are we?" _

_Silence._

_"Allura! Please! Don't fade out on me…"_

_"I'm here, Keith. It's just difficult…."_

_"What's difficult? Allura? Help me understand…."_

_"It's difficult to keep us all shielded. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up… it's making me so tired…"_

_"Allura. You have to help me understand. I can't see, or hear, or feel anything, only you in my head, and then…nothing."_

_Silence._

_"It's Haggar's little trap, Keith. It wasn't just a Robeast."_

_"Pidge tried to tell me something about that…"_

_"But it was too late by then, Keith. If only I wasn't so drained…"_

_"Allura? Allura!"_

_Silence. _

_"Allura?" Keith was panicking. Where was she? Shielding them from what?_

_"No, Keith, it's me, Lance…."_

_"Lance! Thank god!"_

_"What the hell is going on, Keith?"_

_"Help me call for Allura…"_

_"ALLURA!" both of them doing the mental equivalent of screaming…_

_"Lance! I'm here. Thank the goddess, I need the two of you, we have to wake the others, and we have the strongest link, the three of us, mind-to-mind, if we all concentrate, we might wake them…"_

_"Wake who? Where in frozen hell are we, Allura? What happened?"_

_Silence._

_"Are you crying? Only you could cry IN OUR HEADS while we're suspended in some kind of Haggar goo…"_

_"Shut it, Lance."_

_"Haggar rigged a trap for us," Allura projected in a small, weak voice. "And it's my fault. She used my powers, the ones she had Lotor… hurt… out of me, the ones that came from my pain and my fear. And she released them with a huge burst of energy, and something else, something that caught us. She combined her evil magic with my ability to get into our heads and create some kind of bomb with it… Pidge could explain that part better, I'm sure…"_

_"I don't know, Allura. I don't even have a handle on the science of this one…"_

_"PIDGE! Thank the goddess…"_

_"Please, Allura, please, keep explaining…"_

_"I'm trying to shield us all, here, in our heads. I've cut off all sensations, because that's how she's hurting us, because senses are one of the doorways into the mind. Outside this bubble I've made for us, it feels like being burned alive, except nothing's really happening, it's all in your mind."_

_"Allura?" Lance projected, frustrated. "Please don't cry in my head anymore."_

_"I said shut it, McClain.... Allura?"_

_"Keith?"_

_"What about Hunk and Sven?"_

_"Hunk, yes, I've always been able to reach him; he's in here with us, he's just… not answering, maybe he's too weak… but with the four of us, we'll be stronger. I can try to draw on all of you. But Sven…."_

_"Sshh, Allura, it's ok, please don't cry…"_

_"I've never been able to reach Sven."_

_"You mean…"_

_"Yes, Keith. Sven is out there, and I can't shield him. Sven, in his head…"_

_"…he feels like he's being burned alive…"_

_"Yes, Keith. In a very real sense, Sven IS burning alive, right now; his body is unhurt, but his mind thinks he is on fire…."_

_Silence._

_"What can we do, Allura?"_

_"Exactly what I tell you to. And then, if we are successful, we will awaken here, in our Lions, and we will still have to form Voltron to fight a Robeast, along with whatever else Doom decides to throw at us, and Sven… Sven will not be able to help us. Maybe not for a very long time. Maybe not ever. I am sorry…"_

_"Who will pilot the Blue Lion? Keith?""_

_Silence._

_"There's only ever been one other real choice. If she wants it."_

_"Does Allura even know HOW to fly?"_

_"Yes, Lance. Alex… he showed me. He wasn't supposed to, but he took me up, in his fighter…I'm not trying to say I'm a fighter or a pilot or anything, I can fly enough, at least, to help form Voltron."_

_Silence._

_"Welcome aboard, Princess. I wish it was under better circumstances."_

VVVVV

The had all done it, as she had asked them; their minds lay open to each other, now, and the five of them stood together on the surface of Arus, but it was the Arus Keith had shown Allura that first day they met. It was green with clear, blue skies, and they stood together, the Voltron Force, white uniforms gleaming like armor in the sun.

"I take it this isn't really Arus?" Keith asked, turning to Allura. Her face was turned upward, to the sun, her hair unbound, and she was smiling.

"This is the Arus that was, and the Arus that will be, if the gods are willing." She lowered her eyes. Keith almost jumped. Her eyes were glowing blue. She smiled. "You should know, Keith. You showed me, the first time you took my hand. Remember? A safe, green Arus?"

"But why are we here?" Lance asked, stepping forward.

"Because, you must help me break the spell. And what is the only way to break a spell?" She asked Lance, smiling teasingly, suspecting his answer.

"Uh, you kiss the Princess?'

Allura giggled. "Sometimes. But not now. Not this kind of spell." Her face darkened. "We must fight the witch."

"You mean Haggar? Here on Arus?"

Allura nodded, looking fierce.

"But how do we fight her? We have no weapons, she isn't even here…" Lance protested. Keith, on Allura's other side, went very still, his hand frozen over an object on his belt.

"We have many weapons," Allura said. "The five of us are bonded, through each other and through Voltron, and that gives us weapons against the witch she can never touch: friendship, love, trust, honor… everything good, everything that Voltron stands for, was created for…and we will use that bond to defeat her. That, and one more weapon…"

The skies grew dark and a wind blew across them, whipping Allura's hair back. "The witch," she said, eyes glowing an even brighter blue. "She comes."

VVVVV

"You've grown in your powers, little Princess," Haggar commented as she drew nearer, feet moving across the grass without making an imprint, any sign, of her passing.

"Yes, I have," Allura said, defiantly. "I have you and Lotor to thank for that. If he hadn't caught me that day, hadn't hurt me, as you instructed, my mind might have stayed in its slumber. I haven't yet properly thanked you for that," she hissed, dropping into a crouch, looking exactly like a lioness protecting her cubs. Her eyes flashed bright blue.

"Very well, Princess. You have chosen the ground. Have you chosen a champion, as well?"

_Keith,_ Allura projected, but he was already stepping forward, as if in a dream, hand on his belt. It was up to him, it had always been him. _You must draw upon us for strength; I will be your shield…_

"Uh, Keith?" Lance asked in a very loud whisper. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Of course," the witch said, thoughtfully. "Of course it would be him. I had wondered about the other one," she said, looking at Lance, "but I can see he has another role to play. Very well." Haggar drew her ancient, twisted staff from the folds of her robe, and, raising it high over her head, beginning to chant as a dark, whirling cloud began to pulse outward from her joined hands. "I can unleash forces in this place you have never even dreamed of, Princess…" The wind began to howl as the darkness spread outward from Haggar. The Force staggered against the howling winds, leaning into it with their bodies, trying to keep their foothold. Shrieks emanated from the gathering darkness, otherworldly shrieks that whispered of hunger, madness, pain…

_Join hands,_ Allura commanded, still crouched protectively in front of them. Closing her eyes tightly, she reached into them, feeling each of them and the unique, bright energy inside them; Hunk, with his nimble steadiness; Pidge, with his quick, airy intellect; Lance, who was all passion and fire; and Keith, with his steady, timeless courage and honor… she drew on them, her friends and protectors, and threw up a shield against which the gathering darkness could only batter itself, and wail…

Haggar, chanting, now, under her breath, brought the staff in front of herself and pushed against the shield; Allura could feel it stretching around them, could feel the darkness slipping over and under it…

_NOW,_ _Keith, _she called to him.

He stepped through the shield, grasping the Sword of Altaire in both hands. The witch looked at him, astonished, recognizing the sword, realizing, in the few brief seconds she had left, that there were forces at play here on Arus that went beyond herself, beyond Zarkon and his pitiful struggle for this planet, forces that were eternal and were once again at play, and they were all but pawns…

_NOW! _Allura thought, and he brought the sword down upon the witch, cleaving her straight through the middle, her staff vanishing as she did, with a scream and a small explosion, only her brown, fluttering robe left in a pile on the ground.

"What _is _that thing, Keith?" Pidge asked, adjusting his glasses nervously. Hunk was looking over his shoulder as if expected Haggar to jump out at them at any moment.

Keith just shook his head, speechless, looked dazed as Lance came over and slung an arm around his friend and Commander.

"Oh, just an old sword I found in a duffel bag," Lance said, supporting Keith without being obvious about it. He looked down at Allura, and offered her his hand. "Princess? Don't we have a Robeast to kill?" She pulled herself up, leaning into him gratefully. "Now, just how do we do this?" he asked, ever the skeptic.

"The same way we came. Just open your minds to me…"

VVVVV

Keith woke to find himself in the cockpit of his Black Lion, and fought back the urge to kiss the console. The Lions were in exactly the same positions they had been when Haggar's trap had exploded, except now they merely floated, the giant silvery mass gone completely. _Thank god,_ he thought. "People!" He snapped over the comm. system. "Roll call!"

"I'm here," Pidge said.

"Me, too," Hunk seconded.

"Lance here…"

"And me," the Princess called.

And no Sven.

"Blue Lion, respond. Sven, respond if you are able."

There was no answer from the Blue Lion as it floated in space not far from Keith.

"Keith," Allura said, gently. "We went over this. We've got to get me into that cockpit. It's his only chance."

The coffin began to rock.

"Uh, Keith? I think one debilitating magical attack just wasn't good enough for Zarkon," Lance said, nervously. "Look out behind you…"

The coffin rocked dangerously now, and this time, what slipped over the edges did have defined arms and legs… he never thought he'd actually be glad to see a "normal" Robeast…

"Pidge, get over here and tow Blue Lion back. Get it connected to Red. I'm going to try to do some damage to Robeast Plan B here before it's up and out. Hunk, I want you at my seven for this. I want you to slice and dice, Buddy."

"Yes _sir_," Hunk actually growled. Lion blades extended, Yellow swooped in and began making passes around the coffin, hitting each limb as it emerged. Keith followed suit, using Black Lion's massive paws to rip chunks out of the Robeast's blue, scaly flesh.

"Allura?" he said, his voice firm and controlled.

"Yes, Keith?"

"Once you are in that cockpit, you will follow every order I give you to the letter. You will and you must do exactly as I say exactly when I say to do it. Is that clear?"

She didn't miss a beat. "Yes, Commander." There was no sarcasm, no teasing.

"Lance, once you get her in there, I want you down here roasting Robeast. You too, Pidge. Allura, your first order as pilot of Blue Lion is to ascertain Sven's condition as best you can, make him as comfortable as you can, and then strap yourself in. The second we're able, we're forming Voltron. We've got to get Sven back home."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized what he'd just said. He'd just called Arus "home."

"She's in," Lance informed him, shooting around him trailing a stream of fire. The Robeast was fully out now, and thoroughly annoyed.

"All right people, let's regroup. It's time to bring out the big guy," Keith commanded.

As all five Lions pulled upward, Allura broke in over the comm. system. "Uh, Keith? I mean, Commander?"

"Blue Lion, status report."

She was silent as the Lions kept climbing. Keith frowned. Maybe she didn't understand the lingo…

"Sven is gone, Keith," she said, her voice breaking in spite of herself.

"What do you _mean_, gone?" he snapped, incredulous, fearing she meant "dead."

"I mean, he is not here. Neither is his uniform, his blaster… there is no sign of him whatsoever."

"How is that possible?" Lance said, equally shocked. "How can he just be… gone?" The blue Robeast caught sight of them and gave chase. It let loose a laser blast straight at Blue Lion. "Allura!" Lance shouted. He drove Red fast and hard between the Robeast and the Blue Lion, taking the hit meant for their least skilled pilot. Red spun crazily until he got control again.

"Thanks, Lance," she said.

"Yeah, no problem, just don't wear matching outfits with the next Robeast we meet, ok?"

Keith wanted to tear out his hair. He wanted to head straight for Planet Doom and comb under every rock for Sven. But the Princess, untrained and injured, was a major liability right now, and with a Robeast on their tail…

_How do you even know he's on Doom, Keith? It doesn't make sense that they would take Sven and leave the Lion…We need to regroup, to look at this from all angles, in a calm, focused, manner..._

She was right. They had no idea where Sven had gone. He punched the console as his Lion roared.

"Dammit!" he yelled, in an un-Commander like manner. "Are we ready to assemble, team?" he asked, not waiting for their answers before calling out the sequence:

"_Activate interlocks! _

_Dyna-therms connected. _

_Infra-cells up; _

_Mega-thrusters are go! _

_Form feet and legs; _

_Form arms and body; _

_And I'll form… the head!"_

If it was surprised by the sudden appearance of a huge shining robot, the Robeast didn't show it. It shifted instantly from chasing the individual Lions into attacking Voltron; it swatted at the robot with its long blue talons while drilling Voltron in the center of his chest with laser beams.

"Lance, burn it," Keith said flatly, releasing a barrage of torpedoes and lasers at the Robeast, who decided, once again, to attack the Blue Lion directly….

As Lance blazed away, he teased Allura, "I warned you about those matching outfits…"

He trailed off as Blue Lion let loose a blast from its ice cannon, followed by torpedoes and a few laser blasts for good measure.

"I got that memo, Lance," she returned. "Can we just _please_ finish it off?" she hated herself for sounding whiny, but they needed to find Sven, and they weren't going to do that here.

"Form blazing sword," Keith said, beginning the sequence that still amazed him. As the massive weapon formed between Voltron's hands, the Robeast attempted to lunge backward, out of striking range, but Blue Lion latched onto it with its teeth.

"Nice work, Allura," Keith said, surprised. He hadn't hoped for much more than a place filler for Sven, a warm body to help form Voltron, but Allura was taking to Blue Lion like a natural…. The giant robot brought the sword up over its head, slicing the trapped Robeast in half across the waist.

"Is it always this…" Allura trailed off, reaching for the right word while Blue Lion released a Robeast leg.

"Gross?" Pidge supplied.

"Nasty?" offered Hunk.

"I like 'marshmallow center,'" Lance added, to a chorus of groans.

"I don't think I want to know what that is," Allura said.

Keith was silent. Through the mind link, the entire team could feel his sadness and sense of defeat, which they all shared, to some degree.

"Come on, Commander," Lance broke in. "We'll find him. We'll get him back."

"And we might as well go home to start," Allura added.

Through his exhaustion, through his grief and his pain, Keith decided he liked the sound of that. Arus. Home.


	16. Chapter 16: Somewhat Reluctant

Author's note: Thanks to all of you who urged me on during this long break- to for her encouragement, kindness, and writing advice, to Heart of Demons for constant encouragement, to Mertz, well, just because :) and countless others who have been with me through this process.

This very long chapter is for all of you, and it should be called "Part Two," because it really is a transition from the previous fifteen chapters, moving into a whole new direction with the plot and with the character's relationships with each other- "edgy" and "competition" being key words from the summary…

Just like our intrepid adventurers, I myself just slew an evil Robeast named Final Exams- a particularly nasty one who kept regenerating just when I thought I was done- and so I thought some R&R might be nice, and yes, Heart, I promise- lots of the big guy soon-

Playlist: R.E.M., "Perfect Circle;" David Gray's "White Ladder;" some of the "Twilight" soundtrack…

And all the standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Sixteen:

The Somewhat Reluctant Knights in White Uniforms

Commander Keith Akira Kogane, leader of the Voltron Force and pilot of the Black Lion, having just returned from a successful mission during which, after enduring torture himself, he helped rescue the Crown Princess of Arus from the heart of Planet Doom, defeated Prince Lotor in a duel, the witch Haggar in a magical battle, released the Voltron Force from a powerful enchantment, using the fabled Sword of Altaire, and fought an aerial battle against Drule fighters, Doom's planetary defense systems, and a particularly ugly Robeast, was afraid to get out of his Lion.

"What's with the welcoming committee?" Lance broke in over the comm. system. "That's the biggest crowd I've ever seen on Arus gathered in one place." It had been Keith's idea to land their Lions in front of the new castle; he knew it would be easier to get Allura to Med Center through the castle than if she had to navigate the tunnel system with her injured ankle. Allura had been quick to agree, and now he could see why. A makeshift celebration and hero's welcome awaited them. His natural shyness and dislike of crowds had him suddenly wondering if this had been such a good idea, after all….

They could both feel the swell of emotion washing over them as Allura, speaking through the comm. system rather than mind-to-mind, confirmed Lance's observation. "I believe you're right, Lance. I don't think I've ever seen so many of us gathered together in one place in a long, long time. And I've never seen them gathered together outside like this, not since…" her voice thickened, overcome with emotion. "Since Zarkon began his attacks and my parents died, and we all had to go live underground, in the caves and the shelters. I haven't seen so many people standing on the surface of Arus since… since I was eight years old…" They heard her take a shaky breath before continuing, and even still her voice wavered with emotion. "I guess they finally feel safe enough now, with Voltron back…" she trailed off softly, wonder in her voice.

Keith felt a strange combination of sadness and shyness as he looked out over the crowd of people gathered in loose clusters near the entrance to the new Castle of Lions. It was obvious they had been through a lot. Their clothing was makeshift and, in most cases, worn, even tattered. They were deathly pale, and their eyes, ringed with dark shadows, squinted up at the Lions, obviously unaccustomed to the sunlight. What made Keith the saddest, though, was the obvious lack of adults in the crowd. It was as if an entire segment of the population had simply been erased. The crowd was made up mostly of the elderly, the injured, and children, ranging in age from barely walking to young teenagers that looked to be around Pidge's age. Those children would never have known a life outside the caves…

He felt a great wave of sadness for the Arus that had been, and found himself wondering, _How can we rebuild a planet when almost every single able-bodied adult has been the victim of any number of Zarkon's atrocities? _The thought surprised him as soon as it popped into his head. _ Rebuild Arus? We're still trying to build a decent defense. _Then it struck him, full force, the exact reason why he was still sitting in his Lion's cockpit, afraid to get out. These people were gathered here to see him and the rest of the Voltron Force. They were here because they _were_ Arus's defense force. They had succeeded in defeating Zarkon in battle in… how many years?

_Ten_, Allura projected promptly. _Ten years since we've had anything like a victory against the man who has driven my people underground like rats, while their homes, fields, temples, and schools burned around them, and their family members were either killed or captured as slaves…._ Out loud, she said, "Hey, I know you guys are exhausted, and we're all still reeling from… from Sven's… disappearance." She carefully avoided the other word that had hung over their heads the whole way home. "But my people have been through so much. Everyone out there has lost someone, lost something, and they're gathered here to welcome us. Like it or not, guys, you're heroes. So get used to it, and let's go out there and greet the crowd." The motley crowd started cheering the moment the Lions opened their massive jaws.

"But Princess, I know you're injured… your foot," Pidge said, concerned.

"I see Dr. Gorma out there, with Koran and Nanny," Allura assured him. "And Keith, you really could use a look over, too, you know…"

Although he was sure his injuries were minor, Keith didn't want the waiting crowds to see his gruesome back. His uniform lay in bloody tatters across his back where Lotor had laid into him with a whip, and he didn't think that was something he wanted to be showing off to the celebrating crowds…

_Don't worry; it would be my pleasure to take the pressure off you and the Princess by hogging all the attention…_Lance projected at them.

"Do you need help, Allura?" Hunk asked, anxiously. "I'll be happy to help, maybe carry you to Med Center…"

"Don't worry about it, Hunk," Keith cut in. "I'm not too concerned, myself, but if it would make the Princess feel better, I'll go get checked out, and since I'm headed there anyway I can take her… Besides, I'd feel better if Lance and I checked Blue Lion over, in case… there's some evidence, anything, that might help us find Sven."

"Sure thing, Commander," Hunk said, sounding strangely excited. "The rest of us'll go on ahead. I've got to go say hi to some folks…" he trailed of vaguely.

"Me, too," Pidge said. "Mind if we catch up with you in a bit?" Keith wondered what they'd been up to, while he and Lance and Allura had been on Doom.

"Uh, no, go ahead…" he started to say, but Pidge and Hunk were already out, wading through the screaming, cheering crowd. They were immediately surrounded by a large group of children, who were demanding that Hunk give them a ride. Grinning from ear to ear, Hunk complied, swinging two little girls on to his broad back, and scooping up one small, wide-eyed boy to sit on his shoulder. He tucked another small child into the crook of his arm. He looked as happy as if he had just successfully bluffed Lance at poker. Pidge was talking happily to a pair of girls, who looked to be near his own age, and scooped up a little boy, obviously belonging to the girls, and threw him over his shoulder.

"It's looks like they sure are fitting in," Lance whispered to Keith.

"I wonder what else we've missed?" Keith whispered back.

Keith and Lance appeared slowly and made their way to Blue Lion, waving to the cheering crowd as they went. Lance was careful to position himself so that his friend's back stayed hidden. Allura waited for them just inside Blue Lion, using the pilot's seat as a crutch as she stood. She had removed Lance's jacket and was clutching it to her chest protectively, wearing an expression that looked like a cross between guilt and fear. Of course, that left her standing there exposed in the scandalous red dress again. Keith fought down a wave of some strange but powerful emotion as he watched her clutch his friend's battered jacket to the front of the low-cut, thin red silk while she breathed heavily, in and out...

"You can still borrow that, you know," Lance joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I know where you live, after all…"

Allura shook her head. "It's not that." Lance and Keith were both picking up waves of strangely mixed emotions as she stood before them, one hand on the pilot's seat, the other clutching the jacket as if it were something very important to her. She seemed to come to some kind of decision, and squared her shoulders with determination. This did nothing to help keep either man's attention above her neck. "I wasn't sure whether to show you this or not," she said, "but there's no real away around it, and I think it gives us some information about Sven."

That got their attention. "What are you talking about, Allura?" Keith demanded.

She shook her head, passing the jacket back to its owner. "Open it," she whispered, a haunted look in her eyes as she draped her free arm around Keith's shoulder. Lance took the jacket from her, almost afraid it held a bomb or something, from the way she was acting…

_Not a bomb_, she projected to them. _In its way, it's worse than a bomb. _

Lance carefully unwrapped the bundle to find a snowy white uniform, neatly folded, nestled inside it. It was so white it nearly glowed, just as all of theirs did. It was clearly a Voltron Force uniform. He carefully unfolded it, comprehension dawning. It was smaller than any of theirs, except possibly Pidge's, and it was trimmed with…

"It's _pink_," Allura whispered in horror. "It's a Voltron Force uniform, and it's trimmed in pink. _In_ _my size_. Pink! And I found it here, waiting in the seat for me, when I climbed up from Red Lion, back during the Robeast attack. A pink-trimmed uniform in the pilot's seat, and no Sven. No trace of him."

Keith started to reassure her that pink wasn't really _so _awful when she cut him off. "Don't you see? Blue Lion…Pidge thinks the Lions can anticipate our needs, make accommodations for us, when they can… Blue Lion knew I would need a uniform. It knew Sven wouldn't be coming back." She sobbed, clutching Keith's neck. "It knew I would be its new pilot. Oh, Keith, Lance. I'm so sorry. But I really think Sven is gone. I don't know what happened to him, maybe Blue does, maybe one day she'll tell me, or maybe Pidge can figure out some way to get it out of her, but this uniform…"

Keith patted her awkwardly. "It's all right, Allura," he said, his heart heavy.

Lance held her uniform gingerly before laying it across the pilot's seat. "I have to agree with Allura. Sven would never wear a pink uniform."

"I'm not sure I'm going to, either," Allura mumbled. "Blue Lion has one wicked sense of humor…"

Lance smiled at her crookedly. "Hey you two, I wasn't kidding about Med Center. Let's take care of the known before we get wrapped up in trying to solve the unknown, ok? Keith could wear my jacket through the crowd, and that would hide his back, but that would leave you in that dress, Princess," Lance blushed. He found himself doing that a lot lately. It was an annoying new development, like caring, a lot, about the two people in front of him, like wanting to be the kind of person they, and others, could depend on.... "Unless you wanted to change? Into the uniform?"

She shook her head firmly. "No. This is not the dress I would have chosen, but it does make the statement I want to be crystal clear to Nanny and Koran and the people of Arus." She put an arm around each of their shoulders, leaning heavily on them. "I want them to know I am no longer the unsure little girl they have known me to be. I want them to see that I am a grown woman, their Princess, yes, but an adult, a symbol of a changing Arus that will no longer cower underground while Zarkon destroys us. Today is the day we begin to fight back, for our planet and for ourselves." Her face was flushed when she finished speaking, and Keith and Lance both felt the passion of her convictions sweep through them. "And, Keith?" she added, "Keep that sword hidden for now, ok? I promise to explain it later, but believe me, now is not the time to reveal it to the crowds."

He nodded, slipping it into a pocket of Lance's jacket. He'd had the same desire to keep it hidden himself.

"That is, if you don't mind carrying me to Med Center," she added, grinning mischievously. "Besides, I've heard Lance is the wagering kind…want to bet on how long it will take Nanny to faint dead away when she sees me in this? I'm going for three minutes."

"And the stakes?" Lance asked, intrigued.

"Hmm. A neck massage?"

"What?" he asked, startled.

"A neck massage? It's like a small muscular manipulation, centering on the neck and shoulders? Don't tell me you don't have them on Earth?" She frowned. "Maybe something else, then, if you don't like neck massages? Dessert, or something?"

Lance took a deep, shaky breath, afraid to look at Keith, channeling his very best poker face. "Um, no, those sound like ok stakes to me. Three minutes, you say? I think it'll take less, actually. I'm betting two." At Allura's nod, he added, neutrally, "Keith? Want in?"

His Commander looked studiously at the floor, but Lance could hear the laughter behind his voice. "Sure, sure, why not. Except I'm betting on a minute."

Lance raised an eyebrow at him as their eyes met over Allura's head. "Well, then," he said, glad to see his two friends in good spirits. "Let's go meet the crowds."

VVVVV

Princess Allura sighed contentedly as the last of the rubies and firedrops that had been woven into her hair for what felt like forever fell into the basket on her vanity. As she had suspected, the precious stones filled the small basket completely, but even though it was a small basket, one she normally used for cosmetics, the stones filling it were worth a fortune. She had stripped herself of all the jewelry she'd acquired on Planet Doom, as well. She never wanted to see any of it again. She would use it to start a fund towards the rebuilding of her planet, perhaps to build a school, or an orphanage, or something…

"Ah, my poor darling," Nanny cooed, moving the brush through her hair with uncharacteristic tenderness. "How you must have suffered… forced to dress in a manner so beneath the dignity of a princess…." The scandalous red dress had been stripped from her, replaced by a hospital gown and robe, almost the second Nanny made it into her examination room at Med Center. She shooed Keith and Lance out of the room, where they had helped settle her onto the bed, her engorged, black and blue foot propped up, when Nanny charged in, followed closely by Dr. Gorma. As Nanny shooed the two men out of the room, Allura realized Keith hadn't left her side since Lotor kidnapped her from her own castle, and Lance had been with them almost as long… she fought down a wave of panic as a nurse shuffled Keith off into another examination room, and Lance ambled off behind him, looking uncomfortable and out of place. _We'll see you soon,_ he assured her, as he followed Keith. _You just have to call for us,_ Keith echoed, and although she knew they could hear her in their heads, just as she could hear them, knew they would come running if she needed them to, she still felt their parting as an almost physical pain…

"…and then, there was my poor, injured baby, with no one to help her but those two soldiers, poor princess…so silly of me, must have been the heat and the shock of seeing my poor baby dressed in such an undignified manner… really, princess, I have no idea what came over me… perhaps the crowds brought it on…" Nanny rambled on, moving on to fuss over Allura's ankle as she hid a wicked grin. Nanny had collapsed perhaps ten seconds after they appeared on Blue Lion's ramp. She owed Keith a neck massage…

"…after a nice long soak, and Nanny will shampoo your hair… I have some of your favorite shampoo I have been saving, the one that smells like lilies… and then perhaps a nice cup of tea by the fire…"

Allura allowed herself to embrace the warm feeling of drowsiness seeping into her. It had been so long since she had been able to relax, and no one was attacking the castle right at this exact moment. She hadn't even had time to fully explore her new rooms, she thought, as Nanny helped her hobble into her new bathroom, with its large sunken tub and separate shower. Nanny had moved her things from her old room in the shelters into this new suite of rooms that were, as the older woman assured her, truly fit for a princess… Her new suite had its own little sitting room, complete with a fireplace, and her bedroom was dominated by a large canopy bed, piled high with blankets and pillows… she smiled, drowsy now. "No one takes care of me like you do, Nanny," she murmured, slipping into her scented bath. "I missed you."

The older woman bustled about the bathroom, readying towels, laying out a soft clean dressing gown, quietly wiping her eyes on her sleeve as she perched on the edge of the bath, lathering up Allura's long blonde hair. "My poor baby. You will have to put up with me spoiling you, I missed you so. Let's get you into bed, and after a nice nap, I'll bring you something from the kitchen, and then we'll go down to the hot springs, as Dr. Gorma ordered…"

"Hot springs?" Allura mumbled sleepily, eyes closed as Nanny massaged her scalp. "Dr. Gorma?"

"The minerals and the heat, my princess. You must soak the ankle to reduce the swelling before he can put a brace on your poor ankle. Dr. Gorma said so. But you must let Nanny care for you, and then one of those soldiers from Earth standing guard outside your door can perhaps help us down to the hot springs in the caves…"

Allura opened her eyes, shocked. "They're _standing guard_? Nanny, you mean to say you are making one of the Voltron Force _stand outside in the hall_ because they've decided to guard me? Do you have any idea what kind of hell they have… we have _all_… been through? Who is it? Which one? I _demand_ that you let whoever it is at least into my sitting room… at least give him a chair, for the love of the goddess…"

"Princess! Such language!" Nanny frowned. "I cannot condone such familiarity between your royal highness and a mere…"

Allura's eyes flashed as she sat up in the bath, dripping lather. "If you don't let whoever's out there into my sitting room and give him at least a chair, I'll march out there in a towel and do it myself…"

"All right! All right! As long as you promise to rest, and go straight to bed, at least for a little while… perhaps you'll be better guarded this way…" Nanny sniffed, as she left the bathroom. "But you're going to have to do your own hair," she announced archly, sailing out of the room.

_Fine_, she thought, sinking once more into the bath. Moments later she smiled as she felt the airy calmness of her youngest teammate nearby. _Pidge?_ She projected. _I'm sorry she made you wait out in the hall… _

_It's ok, Princess. I'm not sure I wouldn't rather be back out there… she's giving me some awfully fierce looks…_

_Just ignore her. I'll deal with her. Please make yourself as comfortable as you can… whose idea was guard duty, anyway? Aren't you all exhausted?_

_Keith_, Pidge admitted. _But we all thought it was a good idea, since there isn't any kind of… guard…but us, and we're still figuring out this new security system. Lotor got through once, and we can't chance anything else happening. Hunk and I are the least exhausted, we volunteered for the first few shifts._

Allura almost cried, as much from sheer exhaustion as from gratitude. _Thank you, Pidge_.

_It's no trouble, Allura, really. We just want you to rest, and get better, as soon as you can, because Hunk and I, we've got a surprise. We were busy while the three of you were…uh, gone… and I can't wait to show you and I can't do that until you rest a little and I think you'll really like it, all the kids love it, so please rest, I can hardly wait…_

Allura laughed. _All right, all right. Now you've got me excited, too._ Wrapped in a fluffy towel, she didn't even bother with the dressing gown before collapsing into the canopied bed…

VVVVV

"I can't believe you did this," Keith said, amazed.

"I can't believe they _let_ you do this," Lance seconded, staring wide-eyed at the scene in front of him.

"Yeah, well, we didn't exactly ask first. Not the adults, anyway. We figured it would be easier to get forgiveness than permission…" Hunk said shyly, twisting a towel between his big hands nervously.

"And they didn't throw you into the brig, or anything?" Lance asked, incredulous.

"Naw. They had other things going on, when the new castle went up, and when they saw how happy it made the kids, they couldn't very well take it back. I'm surprised no one thought of it before, with this waterfall and the huge pool with the warm water and all, it's almost a perfect natural water park…"

"There probably hasn't been anything like it on Arus before," Keith said, inspecting the scene in front of him with a commander's critical eye. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"As safe as my granny's rocker," Hunk said, offended.

"I guess that's a yes," Lance smirked.

"Honestly, Commander, none of them are allowed down here unless some of the older ones, or one of us, is here to supervise, and it's probably safer than it was, since some of the older ones were already jumping down from the top of the waterfall. Pidge hooked up some super-sensitive barrier that won't let anyone in without the right access codes. The older ones watch out for the younger ones, not just here, but virtually everyplace else. They've had to, you know…" Hunk's voice was all choked up, and the big guy wiped an eye quickly. "Really, it was such a small thing, and it's made them so happy. It's not like they have any parks to play in. The adults come here, too, when they get the chance, and bring picnics, leave snacks and stuff..." Sure enough, several blankets, spread across low rocks to either side of the entrance, were stocked with what looked like small sandwiches, pitchers and cups, and fruit. Towels were piled farther along the wall.

Keith stared up at the massive black rock waterfall that dominated the far side of the cavern. They were in what the Arusians called the "warm springs pool," one of the more temperate areas of the hot springs that ran throughout the underground obsidian caves of Arus. It was also the largest and most popular. He remembered from his last and only trip to the hot springs being surprised at the number of children here, swimming and laughing, acting just like normal kids at any pool back on Earth. There were noticeable differences, of course, the most obvious being that there appeared to be no swimsuits on Arus. The children wore plainer, modified versions of their everyday clothing, the boys and girls both wearing regular pants cut-off above the knee, while the girls added loose-fitting shirts. Their cobbled-together swimwear made no difference to them, however. They had never known anything different. The cut-off pants Hunk had insisted he and Lance wear made more sense now.

What Hunk and Pidge had done in their absence was to blast two chutes into the obsidian rock, one long one above the falls, and a shorter one about half as high as the first one. They had gone over the chutes with lasers and even sandblasters, ensuring the rockslides were as smooth as possible, and had carved out a series of steps and handholds leading up to the top of the slides. Keith watched as two lines of children, ranging in age from barely walking to young teenagers, jostled each other for their turn down the water slides. He watched as an older girl clutched a perhaps three or four-year old child in her arms as she went down the smaller slide, landing in water that reached above her knees. She placed the child down gently in the water, only to have the little one pull on her shirt, begging "'Gin! Go 'gin!"

"Waterslides. On Arus. This is one of the best surprises I've ever seen… it'll never have to be closed because it's raining, that's for sure. By god, Hunk, you are a genius. Or a ten-year old in a twenty-six year old's body…" Lance grinned and slapped his friend across the back. Hunk grinned back, turning slightly red. "I think our fearless leader here would be derelict in his duty if he didn't inspect your work, though," Lance added, smirking at Keith. "That is… unless he's _chicken_…"

Keith rolled his eyes while Hunk snickered. "You can't possibly think something that juvenile is going to work on me…"

"Doc Gorma did say the water would be good for your back," Hunk added hopefully.

"Yeah, but I think he meant one of the hotter springs. They have a higher concentration of minerals…" Keith trailed off as Lance began making squawking noises. "And the steam is supposed to be good for healing," he said, loudly, as Lance's squawking increased in volume. "All right! All right already! I will do it, but only if you'll _shut the hell up!_ And I'm not going up alone, either," he added, giving Lance an evil glare. Lance squawked one more time as Keith smacked him across the arm. Grinning at each other like the ten-year old boys they had teased Hunk about, they rushed to take their turns waiting in line for the tallest slide, pushing and shoving each other to see who would be first. As soon as the children realized the Voltron Force had come to join them in their underground playground, they were instantly swarmed. Hunk was pulled under the water by several of the older boys, who immediately engaged him in a vicious splash war, while Keith and Lance were ushered up the stairs to the very front of the line. They eyed each other.

"I hate to pull rank on you, buddy, but as Commander, I really should go first. Chain of command and all," Keith said with mock-seriousness.

"Yeah," Lance replied, "but you won a neck rub from the Princess." He shoved an indignant Keith behind him and pitched himself face-first down the slide, whooping like he was taking off in Red Lion.

"You are so dead," Keith yelled, following Lance on his belly, mindful of the still-healing whip marks across his back.

VVVVV

"Oh, Pidge," Allura whispered. "I can't believe it. I've never seen anything like it. It's… wonderful." Tears in her eyes, she turned to him and impulsively threw her arms around him, squeezing the breath out of him. "Thank you, Pidge," she whispered through her tears.

Pidge adjusted his glasses while he got his breath back. "Uh, thanks, Princess. Hunk did most of the heavy stuff, like handling the explosives…"

From the princess's other side, Nanny sniffed. "I am not sure this is proper," she said. "The girls and the boys, mixing like that…in those wet clothes…"

"But they're having such _fun_, Nanny," Allura insisted, pulling on the older woman as she hobbled along. "Surely you remember _fun_?" Allura paused in the shadows of the door, watching the scene in front of her. She couldn't remember seeing so much happiness on the faces of her youngest citizens, and it made her heart soar. In many ways, they had lost the most in this war. The few adults left had their memories, but all they had was a parentless childhood spent underground, like rats, in the caves, and the occasional outing to a planet whose surface was nothing but ash and dust….

She watched the members of the Voltron Force as they splashed and played like children. She tried to hold a tight rein on her thoughts; she didn't want them to know she was here, afraid her presence would stop them, would change them back into the battle-hardened soldiers they had to almost constantly be here. Hunk waited patiently at the top of the shorter waterslide while four or five smaller children piled into his lap for a ride down. Keith and Lance appeared to be wrestling each other, slipping and sliding like eels as each sought, unsuccessfully, to lock the other into some kind of hold. Shirtless, they wore the cut-off pants that everyone else did here, and their soldier's bodies made Allura blush. But she didn't look away…

Still holding tightly to Nanny and Pidge, she slipped quietly over to one of the low rocks by the entrance. By this time, Keith had organized the older children into two teams, with himself and Lance as their respective leaders. Each team had placed a random object on their side of the pool's wall. Keith found an old boot, while Lance placed a carefully coiled length of rope behind his team. Grinning at each other, the two men huddled with their teams, conferring, before separating with loud cries of "Go Team Keith!" and "Team Lance Rocks!" The children then swam at each other, trying to get around, over, or under the other team; Keith and Lance were no better, clashing in the exact middle of the pool, dunking and splashing each other, trying to pass. "It's a variation of an Earth game called 'Capture the Flag,' Princess," Pidge told her, sitting beside her on the rock. "Whoever gets the other team's object first wins."

Allura, although unfamiliar with the Earth name, recognized it as a children's game of war. Of course. She turned her bittersweet smile toward Pidge, who felt a sudden urge to comfort her. "He's teaching them strategy," she said, quietly. "He's teaching them, the children, how to fight, all with a game…"

"I hadn't thought of it that way, but yes, Princess, you're probably right. That would be like Keith. But it's fun… I played it as a kid, too."

The bittersweet smile was still there when a red-haired girl popped up out of the water and grabbed the boot. "Team Lance Rocks! Team Lance Rocks!" her teammates chanted as they rushed to dunk the blushing red-haired girl under the water. "It will be all right," Allura whispered, as much to herself as to anyone else, watching her youngest citizens learn the strategy of war, of attack and defense, in the makeshift water park buried in the obsidian caves that lay deep below her wasted planet's surface.

They spotted her then, hugging herself, her loosely wrapped ankle extended before her, dressed in one of her mother's shimmery, light summer dresses that stopped just below her knees and left her arms bare. Her golden hair, still slightly damp from her bath, hung straight and heavy down her back, but her face was ringed with wisps of gold, and her eyes, as she stared at them from the shadows, looked as fathomless as the oceans of Earth whose color they shared… She looked lost and fragile, swallowed up by the dark obsidian of the cave around them.

_She's so sad, so burdened,_ Lance thought._ It kills me to see her sad._

_Me too. And she's trying to hide it_, _to carry it all herself, _Keith added.

_Well, she's rotten at hiding it._

_I think we all are, Lance._ Keith turned to look, very seriously, at his friend.

Lance nodded slowly at what he saw buried in his friend's eyes. _Yes, Keith, I know. It's time to stop trying to hide, at least from each other. I think you and I, brother mine, are long overdue for a talk._

Keith nodded his assent. There was no animosity between them, merely bewilderment and concern over a largely unfamiliar emotional vulnerability on both their parts towards the fragile young woman perched upon the rock that warred with a fierce protectiveness deep inside them, and the sense that they were caught up in events and forces over which they had no control, over feelings they couldn't direct or explain, and that all they had was the five of them, this princess and her unlikely assemblage of protectors, to find their way in the darkness.

_Tonight, after lights out,_ Lance suggested.

_By the Lions,_ Keith agreed.

_In the meantime, however, I must inform our Princess of the serious violation of Earth customs she is committing by remaining sad in a water park._

_And she needs to soak that ankle_…Keith trailed off before locking identical, mischievous looks with Lance.

_Dunk her_, they thought as one, before starting towards Allura.

VVVVV

Lance stretched himself out on the ground, back resting against Red Lion's massive metal paw. Despite the lack of distinct seasons on Arus, the nights were still a bit chilly above ground, and he huddled deeper into his trademark leather jacket. _It smells like her_, he thought, burying his nose into the leather. _Flowers_, he thought, _and something else, something cooler, like water_…

He could sense him coming, of course, before he saw him, pausing uncertainly just beyond the circle of Lions. He knew Keith had a hard time with words, sometimes. _Unlike me,_ he thought bitterly_. I never seem to know when to shut up…_

"Funny how it worked out like that, don't you think?" Keith said, sliding down easily to sit on the other side of Red Lion's massive paw.

"Uh, no, I have no idea what you mean," Lance said, truthfully.

"Just an observation. That we complement each other. All of us do. Me, for instance. I'm quiet, careful, I think things through. You're quick, fiery, you act first. Pidge, he looks at everything objectively, intellectually, like a puzzle, while Hunk decides things with his heart, then hangs on with brute force. And Allura… she feels everything. She's our emotional center. She gives us, literally, a reason to fight. It's like our Lions," he finished softly. Overhead the unfamiliar stars of Arus glowed. "It's funny, don't you think? I mean, what are the odds that five people meet up who just happen to complement each other like that? And who happen to match up to each Lion so exactly?" Keith shook his head. "I don't believe in coincidence anymore, Lance. Not since coming here."

Lance watched the stars for a moment. "I thought you were bad with words," he said, finally. Keith merely shrugged. "Look, Keith, there are a million things we need to talk about and sort out. Sven's disappearance, training Allura, rebuilding Arus, exploring everything that new castle can do…"

"Figuring out what makes these Lions tick, and everything that Voltron can do; Basic security measures like regular patrols, requesting aid from Galaxy Garrison, having regular P.T. sessions and Lion practice, daily…." Keith added, as Lance groaned.

Lance continued the list, his frustration growing. "And Zarkon, Robeasts, Planet Doom, Lotor and his obsession with our blonde and blue-eyed colleague, Haggar's disappearance, mind-speech, Allura's powers, and that damn sword of yours, along with all this other magical _bullshit_ that scares the crap out of me…" he slammed his fist into the dirt, frustrated.

After a long silence, Keith said, "Yes, there's a lot to talk about. But those aren't the conversations we're here to have, at least, not tonight, are we, Lance?"

"No," he said miserably. As the stars moved on overhead, he burrowed into his jacket again. It smelled like her. Flowers. Cool water, and all the things that went with it, like spring rain, and morning dew. "Allura," he said out loud, taking the plunge. "Do you love her?"

Keith was silent for a long, long time. "Yes." Overhead, a single star shot across the velvet blackness of the dark Arusian night. Neither man remarked on it. "Do you?"

Lance froze. He had thought it, dreamed it, felt it, carried it, dreaded it, and even held it in his eyes at he looked at her, at the two of them, together, but he had never said it out loud. It was painful to say, and it came out as a hoarse whisper, as he answered his friend, "Yes, I love her."

Another star shot across the sky, and then another, and another. "I know," Keith whispered back, just as hoarsely, his words punctuated by the sudden shower of stars high overhead.

Lance felt strangely lighter, as if he had lain down a heavy burden. "I know you do, Keith. And I know she loves you back," he said, watching the star shower, almost, but not quite smiling.

Keith's mouth had gone very dry, for it was his turn, now, to admit something painful. "Lance, she loves you too."

And then softly, so softly Keith had to strain to hear him, Lance whispered, "I know that, too."

Countless numbers of stars shot swiftly overhead, as if great rips were appearing in the night sky, allowing the sun to peek through into their dark night. Keith, too, sounded a little lighter, a little relieved, when he spoke.

"So, let's get this straight, then. Air it out. Both of us love Allura."

"Yup."

"And she loves both of us."

"Seems like it."

"And we're sitting here, under this star shower, and we're ok with that? Do you know how crazy that is?"

"You mean the fact that we're not beating the shit out of each other right now, or at least smoldering in hatred and plans for revenge? Yeah, I know how crazy that is, Keith. I actually think it's pretty cool."

"I don't want to beat the shit out of you, Lance."

"Me neither, Keith. If anything, it makes me feel better, that's there two of us, looking out for her, because I don't think there's a woman in the whole damn Galaxy who attracts more trouble than Allura."

"True," Keith said, thoughtfully. The stars seemed to be slowing in their crazy dance. He could only see two or three, every few minutes, falling towards Arus.

Lance took a deep breath. "Keith, I need you to know some things about me. I know you know the standard Garrison file stuff, that I've been in prison, that I'm a trouble maker, and all those things are true." Keith started to interrupt him, but Lance plunged ahead. "Those things are true, I am a petty criminal, and I'm a liar, I've cheated at poker and on tests and other things, I've spent my life running away from responsibilities of any kind, I was disinherited by my father for being a disappointment, I left home, and when I did I left a sister and a mother behind at the mercy of that man, who is a bastard and a drunk, and I didn't look back. I'm selfish, I disappoint people, and I talk too damn much. I have never been good at keeping friends." Lance stopped, because he had yet to say the hardest thing. "I've never had a best friend, Keith, but if I did, I swear by everything I've come to love on this planet, I would never steal his girl. If she chooses you, I will go on loving her, but I think…and this scares the hell out of me, Keith…but I think I love her enough to want her to be happy, whatever that looks like." He leaned back against his Lion, emotionally drained, closing his eyes against the threatening tears.

Keith hugged his knees, his own face wet. "I've never had a brother, Lance, but if I did, I don't know if I would feel as close to him as I do to you." He waited. Words were hard. "I want her to be happy, whomever she chooses, too. But I kind of hope it's a long way off." He paused again, gathering his thoughts, watching the sky. "She's eighteen. Do you remember eighteen?" Lance laughed softly. "I do, too. Now imagine you're fourteen, then sixteen, then, eighteen, but you've never even _seen_ a girl your age, let alone dated one, kissed one, held one in your arms, all night long… all the things most teenagers on Earth have done by the time they're eighteen. Suppose none of that has happened, but you still have all those feelings bottled up inside of you, and then, all of a sudden, you're surrounded by young women who are not only your age, but who are very interested in your welfare, in very close contact with you, and some of them may even love you. Can you imagine what that would do to you, how that would make you feel?"

Lance shook his head. "And you're supposed to be bad with words."

"That's what Allura's going through, Lance, a kind of delayed and compressed emotional and sexual awakening all at once. I don't think she knows what she wants. She's never been able _to_ want before. And I love her enough to want her to make the _right_ choice, the right choice for her, not to choose just because it's convenient."

"I don't think she feels that way, Keith. Not about you."

Keith sighed. "I don't know. Lotor…" Lance hissed. "You saw how he dressed her, you saw my back, but what you didn't see was how he toyed with her, how he used me to get her to kiss him… he said he would stop the torture if she just gave him a kiss, one kiss, but it had to be a real one, as he said…" Lance growled even as Red Lion's eyes flashed in the night. "And she...she responded, eventually, like any eighteen year-old would, to the physical contact. And the worst part, the very worst, is that he made her ashamed. Ashamed of something that should have been good, and natural, and pure." Frustration was plain in his voice now. "It sickened me then, it sickens me now. But she's just coming alive, Lance, as a person with desires of her own. And if that means she's torn, between the two of us, if she confuses love with desire, with need, or just plain wanting, well, what then? Can we still respect her choices, and still not want to beat the hell out of each other? Or out of someone else entirely?"

Lance was silent for a long, long time. He watched as one star fell, the first since Keith began talking again. "I don't know, Keith. I know you're my friend and I love you like a brother. I know we both love Allura and she loves us back. Today, that's enough for me. We're off the map here, buddy. It's not supposed to be all messy like this."

"One of my favorite writers back on Earth has this saying, that all great tragedies occur in threes," Keith said, sadly. There were no more falling stars.

"Did you make any wishes?" Lance asked.

"No, did you?"

"No, me neither." Lance climbed up from the ground, realizing parts of him had fallen asleep. "But I do know where to find a drink at this hour, if you'd like to join me, Commander."

Keith stood and stretched. He thought Black was looking at him funny, which was a sure sign of having been out here too long. "I do believe I will take you up on that, Lieutenant McClain," he said, as the two of them headed back to the castle, to Lance's quarters and the bottle of Arusian liquor he'd found and kept hidden there.

Later, after they had toasted to each other, the planet Arus, Galaxy Garrison, several drill instructors they remembered, and lastly, to Sven, Keith, who was turning out to be an annoyingly quiet drunk, in Lance's opinion, turned to him and said amicably, slurring only slightly, "You know, as best friends, we're going to want to kick each other's asses at least some of the time, right, Lance?"

Lance tried to nod, but his head stayed down, so he wound up talking to the floor. "F'course, f'course, it's what best friends do, 's kick th' others asses when they needs it…" And Lance rolled slowly back onto his bed, fully clothed, so Keith excused himself and walked, quite steadily, to his own room, thinking back to the lie he had told Lance as they sat against his Lion. _Well_, he thought, _maybe not a lie. An evasion_. Because as he sat there under the blazing night sky with his best friend and brother, he hadn't wished so much as thanked them, the stars shooting crazily overhead, for bringing him, for bringing all of them, to the tiny, backwards, battered planet of Arus.


	17. Chapter 17: The Ark of Arus

Author's note: Thanks again to all the reviewers who've made it possible for me to get this far: Ms. Mara Jade, cms, Mertz, kitten, Star Duchess, Heart of Demons, and more… I don't know if I could have gotten this far without you. Oh, and the anime suggestions have been great. I've already watched "Spirited Away" with the fam. I've often wondered if Keith's middle name from the DD comics, Akira, was some kind of tribute to that movie…

Playlist: Today's selections came from a playlist entitled "Jazz" and one called "Chill." I was striving for a mellow kind of day. It almost worked. Sorta.

And all the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

II.

Chapter Seventeen:

The Ark of Arus

The dirt seemed to spread itself open as she dug into it with her bare hands, as if it were eager, almost begging, to be something more than what it was: the ruined, scorched earth of what had once been a garden. Once she tapped through the uppermost layer with her trowel, the ground underneath became a little softer, a little more forgiving to the pair of hands that had never worked in the earth, had never felt the dry crust of Arus softening gradually beneath her fingers, as she prepared the dry ground to be saturated with wet new fertilized soil. There were all manner of gardening tools for her to use, gathered together in a bucket near her elbow; their various uses had been explained to her by a patient Hunk, whose family had always kept a garden when he was growing up, but she ignored them, preferring to run her hands, her once-white, once-soft Princess's hands, through the hungry ground.

"Princess, please," cried an exasperated Nanny. "Please, if you are going to dig in the dirt like a… like a… peasant or a child, please wear gloves before you ruin your hands."

"All right, Nanny," she replied blissfully. "Just as soon as I finish this section here."

"You always say that, but you never do," the older woman huffed as she turned away, disgusted, and marched back to the castle. Allura smiled up into the sun, sure she was burning, sure her nose and cheeks would be red this evening at dinner, because, although she had a large brimmed hat thrown somewhere far from her, she preferred the feeling of being completely exposed to the elements, of being outside, and being safe at the same time. She closed her eyes, drinking in sunlight like the starving soil of Arus drank up water, fertilizer, and the dark wet dirt imported from other planets that would make it thrive. She wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, but instead, she leaned forward into the earth again, digging, massaging it with her hands, her aching back and arms a pleasant reminder of the way she was changing, just as her planet was.

She no longer dreamt only of war and death. It had been many nights since she'd woken screaming from a nightmare of Lotor, hurting her, or Alexander der' Elison, dying on top of her. She paused in her digging for just a moment, as she realized she had just thought about Alex without crying. She didn't feel like crying at all, in fact. When she dreamed, these days, it was of sunshine, of the newly planted trees on the hill across from the garden she was digging, of eating strange new Earth desserts with her friends and protectors after the dinner dishes had been cleared, and of laughing, always laughing, until she felt as if her face was sore. She had not known, until they came here, her friends and protectors, her teammates of the Voltron Force, to Arus, that there was so much laughter in the world. Life was good, thought Allura, as she wiped back a strand of blond hair escaping from its braid, leaving a streak of dirt across her cheek.

Always one of them was near her, guarding her, and, at least lately, the only reminder that they were still a planet besieged and not just friends talking and working together were the blasters they wore, at all times. Keith had worked out a rigid schedule ensuring that, if she was not directly involved in some kind of Voltron Force training with all of them, that one of them was with her throughout the day. Most often, it was Keith or Lance; Pidge was frequently up at Castle Control, creating programs and implementing security measures and simply analyzing the technological wizardry, as he called it, that was the Castle of Lions. Hunk was similarly enraptured with the Lions themselves, spending as much time as possible getting to know them, as he put it, hands-on, teasing out their secrets, figuring out weaponry, and making small improvements here and there.

The five of them gathered every morning before the sun rose, grumbling and rubbing their eyes, to practice as a team with their Lions, and with forming Voltron. Because her ankle was still healing, she was excused from the regular P.T. sessions that typically followed morning training. Instead, one of the Force spent the time working one-on-one with her as she gradually improved her piloting skills, and they would then perform some basic P.T. and combat training that didn't involve putting pressure on her ankle. She was already getting stronger; the near-constant ache throughout her body was a reminder. Soon, she hoped to be able to join the rest of the Force in their full morning routine. Nanny and Koran had raised strenuous objections, but she ignored them, backed by Keith and sometimes Lance, who would either quietly or angrily, depending on the speaker, remind her caretakers of the consequences of leaving the Princess unguarded and unable to defend herself. That usually settled things, she thought with a smile, stretching her aching arms above her.

A shadow cut across her, blocking the sun as it extended a dirt-encrusted hand. "Ready to call it quitting time?" Keith asked, pulling her up and slipping a soil-smeared arm across her waist. "Lunch should be ready, and if I get much more of this sun, my skin color is going to match the trim of my uniform."

"I suppose," she said regretfully, looking back at the upturned soil as they headed slowly towards the castle, Allura using him for support.

Keith laughed. He loved to see her outdoors. It suited her. Unlike any blonde he had ever known, Allura's skin darkened in the sun rather than freckling; the red flush of sun exposure would fade, by evening, into an ever-darkening tan that contrasted vividly with her blue eyes and the almost white streaks appearing in her hair, bleached by the sun. "It'll still be here tomorrow," he whispered into her sun-heated ear; his breath made her shiver.

She leaned into him perhaps more than her ankle required. "I know, Keith, but after lunch…" she trailed off, her sunny mood threatening to turn thunderous.

He shared her darkening mood as he groaned, "Conference. I know. Maybe this one won't be so bad…" but she just looked back at her garden-to-be, refusing to dwell on unpleasantness until it was in front of her.

VVVVV

"No, Koran!" she shouted, slamming her fist into the polished wood of the conference table. "How many times must we discuss this? Do you think I am deaf? Do you think I will change my mind just because you bring it up every single day?"

Her elderly advisor took a deep breath, attempting, visibly, to calm himself. "I just want you to consider the position we are in," he said, prepared to go over it again, and again, until she saw sense. "The offer to join the Alliance is the only logical way to ensure the protection we need, and the resources they can give…"

She was standing now, leaning fully on the table for support. "Where were they, Koran, when we were first attacked ten years ago? Where were they when we _repeatedly_ sent requests for help? When we broke down and _begged_?" Her eyes were narrowed to slits, and Koran thought, for the thousandth time, how much she resembled her father when she raged.

"They are offering to help us, Princess," he sighed, resigning himself to losing the argument, yet again. "They have, in fact, already helped us," he said, quietly.

"I know, Koran. I am highly aware of the Voltron Force's ties to Galaxy Garrison. But that does not change the fact that Voltron belongs to Arus. We cannot afford to have the defender of our planet bound into some kind of… contract… with the Alliance that ignored us until we had something they wanted."

"They have been supportive in their offers of help so far, and I am considering, with the counsel of Commander Kogane, whether or not to accept a small contingency of additional support. We have lost all our fighters, for instance, and an additional number of trained guards for the castle would be a welcome relief for the rest of the Force," Allura added reluctantly. The truth was, and she hated to admit it, even to herself, but she simply didn't want strangers on Arus. The soldiers from Earth had, as far as she was concerned, ceased to belong to Earth. She hoped, at least, that that was the case; she suspected they felt the same way.

"In a way, Voltron is the ideal bargaining chip," Keith added, inserting himself into the conversation once it looked like the fireworks were dying down. He fought back a small smile as he realized how well he was getting to know his Princess. She and Koran seemed to have a need to spend the first part of their meetings blowing of steam; after that, they both seemed much more receptive to ideas.

"It's true, you know, that the rest of the team and I are, ultimately, under the command of Galaxy Garrison. But they also know we're the heart and soul of Voltron, one of the most powerful defensive forces in the universe at the moment, and that Voltron, as long as Arus remains independent, belongs to Arus and can only be deployed at Princess Allura's discretion."

Koran rubbed his chin, a habit he had when he was deep in thought. "It creates an interesting tension between us and Galaxy Garrison. They control the personnel, we control the technology…"

Keith took a deep breath. It was time for honesty. It was really the only way he knew how to communicate; he supposed it would make him a rotten diplomat or politician. "Koran, Allura, you have to both know that the rest of the team and I, although we technically maintain ties to Galaxy Garrison, really feel stronger ties to Arus at this point." He watched as Allura looked down at the conference table, trying to hide her obvious pleasure at his statement. The Princess positively glowed these days. It made him happy, in a way nothing ever had, to know that he was fulfilling the promise he made her that first time he took her hand, in what seemed like ages ago, to give her a safe, green Arus…He tried to focus on the meeting at hand. "Galaxy Garrison knows that, too. They know if pressed, where our loyalties ultimately lie. Let me just take a stab in the dark here…"

Allura and Koran both frowned. "Stabbing? At what? And why in the dark, Commander?" Koran asked.

He had to remind himself that they were unfamiliar with so many Earth expressions. It made communication both frustrating and amusing at times, but above all, it reminded him that no matter how much he felt like he was becoming a part of Arus, there was still a huge cultural divide to navigate. "Sorry. I just meant that I'd like to speak openly and honestly about an issue that seems to be difficult to talk about." He looked at Allura. "You don't seem to want any outside help, if it can be avoided."

"I feel strongly that Arus should stay as Arusian as possible. I can't exactly explain why… it's just a strong conviction I have. If we start bringing in outside resources, outside personnel, then our culture might start to erode, to mix and change, and then, Zarkon really will have won. He will have succeeded in killing off our culture, what makes us who we are." She frowned, trying to find the words. "It's not that I want to hang on to outdated traditions. Clearly, things are not what they were, and we have to adapt to that, as a people. I just mean… I just hope we can rebuild Arus ourselves, with internal resources, and that includes personnel, as much as possible."

"But Princess," Koran interjected, and Keith fought frustration as he saw the old, circular argument starting again. "We have very few internal resources. Even that garden you love so much is only possible because we've been able to import fertilized soil…"

"Yes, I _know_ that. I'm not stupid and I don't want to keep us in the Bronze Age. I just think we're underestimating ourselves and the strengths and resources we can bring to bear..."

"And the Voltron Force? You expect the four of them to continue to guard the _entire planet_, including this castle, including yourself, when we could so easily have a contingent of soldiers sent as backup…"

"There are _five_ members of the Voltron Force, Koran," Keith interjected, sharply.

"And, Koran, if we accept a few soldiers here, a few soldiers there, how much longer before we have a foreign _standing army_, under the control of a foreign nation, on Arus? I see the wisdom, the necessity, even, of importing certain goods and materials as needed, and even of starting trade negotiations with members of the Alliance, but even though that may spread _us_, the Voltron Force, a little thin right now, I simply can't be comfortable importing foreign military…"

Koran put his head in his hands. Never a good sign, thought Keith, who was already struggling to keep his mouth shut. He was torn. They really could use some backup. The Force _was_ spread pretty thin. But knowing Galaxy Garrison as he did, Allura was dead on accurate about the many ways they would try to increase their presence and their power on Arus…but even just having support within the castle, extra guards…

"There is another possibility, Princess, Commander," Koran said quietly, and even, Keith thought, reluctantly. "Albeit a slim one." He looked tiredly at Keith. "I would not have thought it possible if the Commander hadn't found the sword."

Keith's hand went reflexively to the sword attached to his belt. The Sword of Altaire. He remembered Koran's shock, even anger, when Allura had asked him, during one of their first meetings in this room, to reveal it. The entire Force had been present that day, he remembered….

_"And where, pray tell, did you find that particular weapon, Commander?" Koran had asked, shocked at the sight of it, staring at it just as Allura had during his fight with Lotor. _

_Keith looked to Lance, who sighed and repeated, for the thousandth time, it seemed to him: "I found it in a duffel bag."_

_This seemed to anger the older man even more. "A duffel bag," he echoed._

_Lance, angry himself, said, heatedly, "Yes! A duffel bag! Why do I have to keep repeating myself? You're the one who gave me that duffel bag in the first place. When I left for Doom. It was in the very bottom of the bag, and I know how good Keith is with the lazon sword, and I thought I might have a chance to give it to him during the rescue operation, which I did, and ever since then people have been going ape sh… I mean, reacting very strongly, to it, and I don't get the big deal." He sat down in a huff, arms crossed defiantly. _

_"So you actually found the sword?' Koran asked again._

_Lance actually growled. "Yes. In a duffel bag. Do I need to use smaller words?"_

_"Did you, at any time, attempt to use the sword yourself, before you gave it to the Commander?"_

_"No! I'm not good with them, they don't train us with them at the Academy, they haven't in years, but I knew Keith's martial arts background…"_

_Allura was watching them all intently. "It belonged to my father before… it came to Keith. It's a very powerful, very ancient weapon, sacred, even, to my people. It's been lost, since his death." She and Koran exchanged looks. "They still don't understand, Koran," she said, frustrated._

_"Of course they don't. Who could have foreseen this? It changes everything…" _

_Lance gripped the sides of his chair very tightly. Keith knew he was very close to blowing up. "Allura," Keith said gently. "It just seems like a regular sword to me. I understand that it's important to you, that it belonged to your father, and I'm honored that you've let me keep it, but can you help us understand?"_

_Allura shook her head, incredulous. "Allowed you to keep it?" She looked at Koran once more, who nodded at her, sharply. Keith wondered of they were using mind-speech. _

_Koran stood, leaning lightly on his cane. "I was once rather good with the lazon sword myself, back in my youth." To the amazement of the Voltron Force, he pressed on the top of his cane, and then fast, so fast no one could follow his movements with their eyes, he had a glowing sword in his hand, which, with one fluid, almost invisibly fast movement, he brought down on the chair he had just been sitting in, slicing the entire chair in half down its exact center with one swipe. The Force stared, open-mouthed, except for Allura, as the chair fell to the ground in two pieces. "Now," Koran said, replacing his blade within his cane, "Give me that sword, Commander."_

_Keith felt a strange reluctance to part with it, but did as the older man asked. _

_Koran closed his hand around the handle and pressed the button that should have activated the blade. Not only did no blade extend, but the older man's arm became enveloped in lines of blue fire. He cried out in pain and dropped the weapon immediately. Allura rushed to him as the older man, shaking, doubled over. The Princess, tears in her eyes, helped him to another chair, whispering to him tenderly as she rolled up the sleeve of his coat. "Do you see?" she asked the rest of the Force. Koran's forearm was covered with angry red burns that snaked up his arm in lines, disappearing into his coat sleeve above the elbow. "His whole arm, maybe more, is burned like that." _

_Koran, sweat standing out on his forehead, said, somewhat breathlessly, "The same thing would have happened to Lance, had he tried to use it before giving it to the Commander. The same thing will happen to anyone trying to use it. Anyone, it appears, except Commander Kogane. The Sword of Altaire is as old, according to the legends, as Voltron himself, and may only be used by the rightful King of Arus, descendant of Altarus himself."_

_Keith felt the blood freeze in his veins. "But… I'm not...I'm just a soldier, from Earth…I don't have a drop of royal blood…I've never even been on Arus before…"_

_"We know that, Commander," Koran said quietly. "It changes everything, and we don't know what it means."_

_"I tried it, every royal heir does, when Father was alive. I was burned as well. For whatever reason, it doesn't usually work for girls. There have been exceptions, but I wasn't one of them." She looked at Keith with strangely mixed emotions. "I guess it was waiting for you," she whispered. "It disappeared with Father's death, as it always does, when one King dies, until the next heir is of age to use it. Then it reappears. The new King, or, rarely, Queen, finds it somewhere, usually unexpected. My great-great-great-grandmother found it in the pocket of her cloak days before her coronation. It's more like the sword finds the user."_

_"But I'm just a soldier… from Earth…" Keith sputtered, reeling from the implications._

_"We know that, Commander. We are just as baffled. But, for good or ill, the sword has chosen you, and while you are certainly not King, it seems you have an important part to play on Arus yet, whatever that may be." Koran stood, holding his burned arm loosely. "So know you know. Keep it close, Commander; keep it safe. I'm going to Med Center. These burns hurt like a Robeast's kiss."_

Keith realized, guiltily, that Koran had been speaking to him while he reminisced. "I'm sorry, Koran, but I didn't quite catch that?"

Koran looked irritated. "Please do try to pay attention, Commander. This is important. With that sword, it may be possible to unite the Elemental tribes of Arus."

"Elemental tribes?" Keith echoed, angry for missing something that sounded important.

"Fiercely independent tribes, each identifying with one of the four elements, who are as old as our recorded history, but have always maintained a certain…distance…from the rest Arus…"

Allura looked thoughtful. "It would certainly solve our personnel problems, if we could get them to agree to send people here. It might also solve the problem of finding someone to train my powers…" she bit her lip, a gesture, Keith had learned, that meant she was lost in deep thought. "But we lost contact with them after the attacks, and even before then, they have always remained fiercely independent. We offered them shelter here in the caves, of course, but they would not leave their homelands, and with the fighting and the rebuilding, we have not been able to check on their status. To be honest, I don't hold out much hope. But they will all recognize the Sword of Altaire, and the Lions themselves. With the sword and the Lions, and with Arus's need being so great, they will have no choice but to honor the ancient accords…"

They all looked up in surprise as Pidge suddenly burst into the conference room. "I've found it! I finally pinned it down!" he exclaimed, practically dancing in his excitement.

"Uh, pinned down what?" Keith asked.

"The anomaly! The negative space in the system! I've found it, and identified it." He forced himself to calm down and speak more clearly. "I communicated with it, actually communicated with it, and I know where it is now, it agreed to wait in one place, and," excitement getting the better of him once again, he hopped up and down, "It wants you, Princess, and your, how did it put it, your knights?" Pidge looked as if he wanted to kiss them all. "It's calling itself the Ark of Arus."

"What do you mean, it's calling itself 'The Ark of Arus', and asking for specific people?" Keith asked slowly, wondering if this was some new kind of trap, courtesy of Zarkon and Lotor…

"It's safe, I promise, Keith," Pidge huffed, annoyed at the delay. "It's speaking because it's sentient, a sentient program buried within the system, and it's tied to an actual physical space that may or may not be tied to this dimension…I've been trying to identify it for days… We've got to go, we've got to get everyone and _go now_." Pidge was practically begging.

They looked at Pidge, amazed. They had never seen him so excited, nor did he typically ask for things, let alone demand them. "Right," Keith decided. "Call Lance, and Hunk, and everyone keep their weapons ready…"

"He called us already," Lance said, stepping in behind Pidge, Hunk entering shortly after, "although he wasn't making much sense. Alternate dimensions, disappearing rooms…" Keith noticed the extra rifle Lance was carrying, in addition to the two blasters on his belt. Knowing Lance, he had a few other surprises tucked away. His friend was awfully fond of making things explode.

"So _let's go!_" Pidge practically yelled. "Down two levels, on the north side of the castle."

"That's near the crypts," Allura said, exchanging looks with Koran. "Do you think Father…?" she trailed off.

"Perhaps," responded the diplomat, enigmatically, "but we had best follow your young friend before he explodes."

Pidge was already off, and the rest of the group had to struggle to keep up.

VVVVV

"This," Allura said firmly, "was not here before."

"Maybe the castle is like the Lions and it can anticipate our needs…" Hunk suggested.

They were staring at a massive wooden door ringed with the heavy stone bricks of the old castle; although the door itself looked like it had just walked out of some Earth fairy tale, it was accompanied by a very modern touch screen, embedded into the wood. Before Keith could say anything, could breathe a word of caution, Pidge practically ran up to the door and placed his hand on the touch screen. "It reacts to body temperature," he explained, as the screen lit up and said, pleasantly, "Greetings, young knight."

Pidge looked suddenly bashful, as he explained, "It insists on calling me that. I have no idea why."

"Because that is what you are," said the low, pleasant voice in response. Allura frowned. The voice seemed so familiar…

"Majesty!" Koran said reverently, dropping to one knee.

Allura remembered. It had been countless years… no wonder she hadn't immediately recognized her. "Mother?" she asked, incredulous, afraid to believe…

"Not exactly, dearest. We are but simulations of your parents. Alfor very much wanted this discovery to include all of us, even if only as a sentient simulation."

Keith watched as Allura's face contorted and she fought back tears. He felt the fierce protectiveness rising within him, and felt it from Lance as well, as the two of them stood on either side of her. _This had better not be some kind of trick,_ Lance projected.

"No, fiery one, although we commend you for your caution," the voice said. _Great. It can hear us_, Lance projected, including everyone in his thoughts_._

"What do you want?" Keith asked, stepping forward, an act that put himself between Allura and the door. A door. That he was speaking to. _What next?_ He wondered. _Cheshire cats?_

The voice took a long moment to reply. When it did, it was unmistakably male. "Ahhh," it breathed. "My sword. It found you."

"Father!" Allura cried out. She was sobbing openly now. "Where are you? Why won't you let us in?" She rushed forward to fling herself at the door, but Lance grabbed her around the waist.

"Ssshh, Allura, not yet," he cautioned.

"The fiery knight is right," said the pleasant female voice. Lance rolled his eyes, but said nothing. "That you have even found this place means that Arus's need is great, and that the worst has come to pass. We prepared this place for you, our daughter, to aid in your time of greatest need."

"What must I do?" Allura asked, sobbing, pulling against Lance's embrace while Keith blocked her from the door itself.

"Behind this door you will find much of what has been lost," the voice continued.

"We are the Ark," said the male voice. "The Ark of Arus, and we are here to help rebuild," it said simply. "To open us, you need merely do as your young friend, and place your hand upon the screen. Only one of Royal blood may…"

"No," Keith said firmly. "Allura's not touching anything until we know it's not a trap."

The male voice, presumably King Alfor's, laughed. "I see my sword choose well. A most protective champion. There is another way, but you will not like it."

"Tell me."

"Use my sword to cut a drop of blood from the Princess and place it, on the tip of your blade, on the screen. She will not have to make physical contact of any kind, although you will have to cut her."

Keith didn't even have to look at Allura. He could hear her yelling her consent into his head. "All right! But Lance, I want you to take Allura and the others far back until I give the all clear. Guard the Princess and await my signal." Lance nodded, his hands still holding Allura firmly. Allura was still in tears as she looked up at him. He took her hands gently in his, extending the blade. _I'm sorry,_ he projected at her, but she shook her head mutely. He released her hands and grasped one finger between his. "Please try and hold still," he almost begged, before gently slicing through her fingertip with his blade. She didn't even wince. "Lance, now!" He commanded, as his friend dragged Allura back down the hall, the rest of the Force converging around her and Koran. He placed the tip of the sword against the screen, and prepared himself for…_what?_ He wondered. _An explosion? A cave-in? Armed robots? White rabbits?_

But the doors merely opened, not even creaking, as he would have expected. Sword at the ready, he stepped forward… and said, in a shaky voice, "Uh, I think it's ok, guys…"

"Told you so," Pidge muttered darkly as they all started forward.

VVVVV

The first things Allura noticed were the books. Shelves and shelves of them, reaching up to the top of the lighted dome that made up the center of the room; the entire, cavernous room was covered with books. She wandered over to a promising looking shelf that held fat and thin books of all colors, and bore little resemblance to the book shelves full of dry tomes of Arusian politics, law, and etiquette that she had been forced to read since she was little. She selected one at random. It was entitled, "Honey Wine: Its Production, Usage, Applications, and Storage." She replaced it and picked one up from the top of the very same bookshelf. It was called, "Poisonous Insekts of Arus, and How the Venoym of Some May be Made into Remedyes." Old, she thought; the paper was dry and crinkly beneath her fingers, but not dusty or otherwise in decay.

"Your father made sure this room was staffed with maintenance automatons before he sealed it shut," a soft, melodious voice whispered over her shoulder. It was merely a voice; no breath or movement accompanied it, but it still made Allura's heart flutter and ache at the same time.

"_Mother,"_ she whispered, and it came as a strangled half-sob. "Your voice…just to hear it… I had given up hope…Father I saw in my dreams sometimes, but you…I had given up hope." She turned to face the source of the voice, afraid she would see nothing, or, at best, a hazy digitized representation of a person, but there was her mother, the former Queen of Arus, looking as real as the book she had just slipped back in its place.

"It's not really you, though," Allura whispered, tears streaming fully down her cheeks. "But still, just to see you and hear you…"

The Queen held her arms wide. "It's a good simulation program, my dearest. In another age, I might be called a spirit, or ghost, or some thing like that, come back to visit you. I can hold you, if you would like," she said, and Allura threw herself into the image of her mother's arms, letting down emotional walls that had survived, intact, since her parent's death. She sobbed as the image of her mother, as blonde-haired and blue-eyed as Allura, if slightly more petite, held her and merely rocked her back and forth, gently petting her hair, murmuring to her. Allura cried and cried, letting out years of pent-up sadness, disappointment, and fear, until her face was red and the sleeves of her gown were soaking wet from repeatedly wiping her face, and she was hiccupping uncontrollably, and the Princess and the likeness of her dead mother somehow wound up on the floor, with Allura curled up in her lap. The former Queen continued rocking her, and began humming a simple melody, softly, while she held her daughter and petted her hair.

Keith stood watching them from his hiding spot between two bookshelves. He felt like a voyeur, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from the two of them, the woman he loved and the image, at least, of her mother. They were so similar in appearance. The soldier's part of his brain told him it was because the situation still wasn't secure, but he couldn't bring himself to look away, emotions twisting inside him, remembering his own last vision of his mother…

"Hey, buddy," Lance said, slipping up beside him. They both had their eyes on Allura. "It's hard to believe she's been carrying that around inside her, all this time," he said, concern in his own eyes. "And yes, I think it's safe," Lance answered his Commander's unasked question. "This place is safe, and legitimate, just like Pidge told us, and he swears the 'simulations' of her parents are as real as such things can get, and that we have nothing to fear." He sighed. "As for Allura… letting all that out can only be good for her. Maybe now she'll have room for some other emotions…" he trailed off, then jumped as he felt a strange sensation on his shoulder.

"Easy there," said the simulation of King Alfor. "No need to jump. I'm as friendly as ghosts can be."

"Uhh…" stuttered Lance, completely out of his element. "Uhh, Keith?' he said to his friend, desperately. Keith just shook his head. His tongue had stopped working.

"We have been told by the Power that runs this place that we cannot stay much longer, that you can and must fully explore this place on your own," said the simulation of the dead King. "So we must be brief, I am afraid. I do not wish to disturb my daughter and her mother; me, she sometimes gets visits from, but her mother… she has been absent these long years. Come, walk with me, the two of you, for I have two things to show you, and the rest, you must discover for yourselves." The image of the King strode across the room; Lance and Keith looked back at Allura uneasily. "She will be protected," the King said, "and we are not going far; you will be able to see her," the King continued, as if their need to protect his daughter was as natural as breathing.

They stopped at an empty table in the middle of the room's antechamber. Beyond the small table in the antechamber, just beyond the wooden doors, the cavernous room stretched out above and around them, dome-shaped, for what seemed like miles. Keith wondered if it was a trick of the lights, or eyestrain, or something, but the domed structure was packed with seemingly endless kinds of containers, racks of tools, datapads, cabinets, and even a wall of what looked like weaponry…

"Sir?" he ventured, finally finding his voice. "What is this place?"

"The Ark of Arus, of course," answered the King. "It's a depository of the collected knowledge of the Kings and Queens of Arus since recorded history began. Every generation tries to add to it. Of course, there are exceptions, but in general, you will find everything here from books about how to build houses made of completely natural materials to seeds of native plants, fruits, and flowers, to actual tools and even weaponry. This room was prepared for Allura to help her rebuild Arus. It was one of the last things we managed to do for her before…" He looked down at the empty table in between them. "Well, the before of it matters not." King Alfor tapped lightly on a corner of the table, and a three dimensional, interactive image of a magnificent city surrounding the Castle of Lions sprung into view. "This is perhaps the most important thing I have to show you. Allura's mother and I had planned to build this, a great intergalactic center of trade, the arts, and music, before…Zarkon's attacks. Her mother loved music." He allowed himself a small smile. "I was going to make sure music was everywhere, even if it was nothing more than the tinkling of bells in the trees… But you will find the plans for it here, should you decide to build it."

"You keep saying 'you,' your Highness, as if we have some part of these decisions…" Keith said, uncertainly.

Alfor actually laughed at him. "Why, you have the Sword of Altaire! And you do pilot the Black Lion, do you not?"

"Well, yes, but I'm just a simple…"

"A simple soldier from Earth? No matter. I understand the Fates less than anyone, I am sure, but you, Commander Kogane," and he turned his fierce glare on Lance, "and you, Lieutenant McClain, have been called here for a purpose, as have your companions. And that brings me to the last thing I must give you." He walked a little further to a section of the room that seemed to be devoted to weaponry. Lance risked a look back at Allura, who, still cradled in her mother's lap, had subsided from sobbing into a low conversation. _Still safe_, he thought with relief.

"Yes, as I told you, Fire Heart," Alfor told him. Lance squirmed at the name. He badly wanted to correct the man, but he just couldn't do that to a ghost or King or the simulation of the father of the woman he loved. So he did nothing. Alfor, as if sensing the struggle within him, merely smiled. He held out a short, well-balanced white dagger, presenting it to Lance.

"This was also mine, once. It, like the sword your Commander here carries, has certain special properties. It's primarily a throwing knife, but there is nothing in Heaven, Hell, or Earth that it cannot cut through. Including magic. So be careful not to pick it up by the sharp end," he joked. Lance stared; he could have sworn King Alfor winked at him.

"Sir," Keith said, respectfully. "Before you go, I was told that this sword could only be used by the rightful King of Arus…and I'm certainly not that… so why did it come to me?"

"I asked it to find a champion, a protector, for Allura, in the absence of a candidate of royal blood," he said. He looked at the both of them. "Little did I suspect that she would find two, for although only one of you carries the sword, I can see the ties that bind you all together. Now," said the image of the dead King, "I must go and say goodbye to my daughter. Our time here is at an end."

Lance and Keith watched as he appeared beside Allura and her mother; as he leaned down to kiss his daughter, they could clearly hear him tell her, "Choose with your heart," before the two simulations, or images, or spirits, of the two dead rulers dissipated. Allura, looking shell-shocked, made her way to the ring of couches in the exact center of the domed library. Lance and Keith joined her there, Lance slipping his new dagger into the side of his boot. "Uh, Keith?" he asked. "Do you think you could hold on to this dagger for me? I need a place to put the new one…"

Allura looked up, interested. "I'll hold it for you, Lance. I'm not carrying mine today." She slipped it into her boot, in the exact same place Lance carried his. "What new one?" she asked.

"Uh, your father…I mean, the simulation… gave me this white dagger of his…"

Allura smiled softly. "That would be like him. If I wasn't already in a state of shock, I'd go into one now. That's a pretty special little knife there, Lance."

"I figured," he said nervously. The three of them just sat there. "I suppose we should look around this place, figure out what's here, what we can use."

Allura shook her head and sank back into the pillows. "I'm going to get into a hot bath and lay down, guys. I have a lot to think about. They told me this place isn't going anywhere. It will be here until I decide to seal it shut. I'd just as soon let Pidge and Koran, how do you say it? 'Go nuts in here', and then pick back up tomorrow. I'm drained." Her face was red, her nose was raw, and her eyes were puffy. Even still, she was beautiful. They both were thinking it. "Would you mind? Helping me?" She asked, her blue eyes wide and bewildered.

"Of course not," Lance assured her.

"As if we'd let you walk back, still injured, and unaccompanied," Keith added.

Allura smiled absently, as if her thoughts were elsewhere. "That's what they said you would say," she nearly whispered, before holding her arms out to her waiting escorts. Lance looped her arm through his while Keith, touching his comm. unit, told Pidge about their change of plans. He held his arm out for Allura, and the three of them walked, slowly but lightly, back to the Princess's chambers.

"I think we're going to have to tell the Princess all about an Earth author named Charles Dickens, and this one really famous ghost story he wrote…" Lance told her.

"I was thinking Edgar Allen Poe," Keith said.

Allura smiled down at the tops of their shoes. "Yes, you will. Both of you will. And I have some Arusian ghost stories that will turn your hair white. No doubt we have much to learn from one another."

"Oooh, goody," Lance said. "A ghost story competition. All we need is a camp fire and some marshmallows, and we'll be set."

Allura frowned. "But I thought you said that last Robeast had 'a marshmallow center.' That sounds most unpleasant. Won't scary stories be enough?"

"She's got you there, smart-ass," Keith said, chuckling, but Lance was laughing freely, lightly, without bitterness or sarcasm. It felt good, he thought, one arm around the beautiful Princess of Arus, to be laughing at himself.


	18. Chapter 18: The Elementals

Author's note: When I started this project I had no idea what I was doing. Sometimes I still don't, but I'd like to thank the folks who were kind enough to help me out with this project, my first fanfic ever. I don't know what I would have done without the input, support, and suggestions of people like Xia Cheyenne, Mertz, cms, Kitten, Lady Alkina, Rocky Oberlin, wade wells, Star Duchess, Harmony Winters, peacock feather… Your support has meant a lot.

These two chapters, eighteen and nineteen, were originally one long piece, but I think they were simply too long to go together. This one might be best rated on the PG-13 side of "T" for a minor (in my opinion) suggestive adult situation and some curse words.

Playlist: Chris Isaak, "Forever Blue," Rilo Kiley, "Silver Lining," etc.

And, as always, all standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Eighteen:

The Elementals

She crept carefully, quietly, into the beginnings of her garden. The ground was still bare; the places where they had planted some of the seeds from the Ark of Arus had been carefully lined off with stakes driven into the ground wrapped with lines of string, so that people would know not to step there. There was nothing to look at, really, but to Allura, it was everything. It might take decades, or it might take years, for this patch of soil to resemble the glory of the gardens of her childhood. It was possible that it would never reach the height of beauty that had been her mother's garden. But Allura loved to come here, whether to work in it with her bare, grubby hands, or simply to look at it, and dream.

Not that many of them had time to dream, these days. They spent their days either training, hard, with their Lions and with their bodies, with covert ops exercises, PT, self-defense and combat training…. All kinds of things she was learning that made her body ache and her mind play funny tricks on her, like noticing shadows she might never have paid attention to before, or being extremely conscious of the layout of a room as soon as she walked into it, or, now, she was finding it impossible to sit with her back to an open door.

But this morning she had been unable to sleep.

So she found herself standing in her naked garden-to-be, watching the early morning stars begin to fade. It was the earliest she had been up and moving about and she still wasn't sure what had broken her sleep so early. It was so early, in fact, that she had gotten up before the kitchen staff, and had tried her hand at making her own cup of coffee. She made a face, remembering the bitter, thick brew she had concocted, choked on, and poured immediately down the drain. With the resumption of trade routes between Arus and other planets, although few and far between, coffee had made its way to Arus at the request of the Voltron Force, and she had gotten used to having a cup with them over breakfast. But she simply couldn't make it the way they did. So she had brewed a simple pot of tea, strong and dark, and added some fragrant lemon flower blossoms and a bit of sugar for sweetness, and decided to spend part of the morning, before being summoned to the cruel torture of early morning Lion practice, in her bare garden-to-be, simply enjoying the coming dawn, happy beyond measure to be able to stand on the surface of her planet without worrying overly much about being bombed.

When she got out to the garden itself, she walked softly, almost reverently, to the edge of the upturned earth, the part that was not roped because it had yet to be planted. She slipped her soft shoes off and wiggled her toes in the bare, soft, fertile earth, loving the feeling of it under her bare feet. She never thought she could get enough; for some strange reason it made every nerve ending in her body come alive and sing, as if she was somehow connected to her planet just by standing on this small part of it. That was when she saw him. She slipped around the corner of the garden shed, sinking slowly to the low stone steps, not wanting to disturb him.

He was standing in the center of the unplanted earth, wearing nothing but some loose black pants tied tightly about his waist. He, like her, was barefoot, and he had his back to her as he went through a series of slow, unfamiliar motions. He appeared to be concentrating intently, but his movements were controlled, and as he shifted his body towards her, she could see that he had his eyes closed. She watched, enraptured, tea cooling in her hand, as he went through a series of steps and arm motions, standing first on one foot before bending at the knees, then moving into something that looked like a crouch, all the while moving his arms as if was holding a tight mass of energy in a ball between them, even though all she could see was air. His arms moved very slowly, making the muscles of his arms stand out to her all the more, and her gaze traveled over his chest and flat abdomen… she blushed, fiercely. She had tried to stifle those feelings ever since her encounter with Lotor, when she had so obviously hurt him, and she had no desire to hurt him again. It was wrong, she thought; she had to control herself. She hadn't spoken of it to him since the incident, since they had brought her back to Arus, and she felt terrible for what had gone wrong between them.

And then there was Lance, her fierce protector, making her laugh, or sometimes making her mad, but always full of passion. She also had these feelings around him, and by the look in his eyes and the bond between them she knew they were reciprocated. Not that he had done anything, at least not purposely, to make her feel that way…but she thought about the shivers she experienced, almost, it seemed, against her will, when he touched her sometimes, or when he looked at her with his blue eyes peeking through his reddish brown hair… She remembered his hands cutting away the silk on her injured ankle, of him holding her tightly against him if he thought there was danger…it was so frustrating, yet strangely delightful, and she couldn't stop her rampant thoughts as she watched Keith in the garden. His bare chest and lithe strong body slowly going through the motions of what looked to her to be a beautiful dance, here in her garden in the twilight before morning, before Lion practice…

"It's called Tai Chi, Princess" he said, eyes still closed. He straightened and looked her right in the eyes, amused.

"Oh," was all she could think of to say.

"I didn't expect to see you up so early," he said, coming to sit beside her on the steps.

She struggled to collect her thoughts. "It seems very different than any of the other exercises I've seen you performing," she told him, her eyes shadowed in the twilight.

"It's not exactly an exercise," he said. "It's just my way of waking up, of greeting the morning. It's a combination of centering movements and meditation, and so it's a good way, for me, at least, to prepare for the day…helps keep me calm, centered." He eyed the steaming cup she was holding and grinned. "I don't suppose you have any extra of that for me?" he asked, half hopeful, half teasing.

"It's just tea," she said, "but I will share my drink, if you will share my cup," she told him solemnly. She wondered if he knew what she was offering. It was a custom on Arus that only immediate family, or two people who were…close, shared the same cup… "I tried to make some coffee, but it was dreadful. I had to pour it out," she admitted, as he took her mug and sipped from it carefully. Even though she knew he couldn't know the significance, her heart did a funny little flip when she saw him touch his lips to the rim.

"I can teach you, if you like," he said, not taking his eyes off her. Her eyes were dark in the twilight, her face shadowed, so he couldn't really see her expression. They had all gotten better at shielding their thoughts, so that things didn't "leak" out between them so easily, unless they wanted the other person to know, but feelings were proving harder to shield. He could sense a tension about her, a warmth…

She pulled her knees close to her body and wrapped her arms around them. "Teach me what?" she teased lightly, looking at him through narrowed eyes. "How to make coffee? Or Tai Chi? Or perhaps something else?"

"Well, whichever you like, I suppose," he said, still holding her cup, as the double meaning of his statement sunk in. He could teach her…. What? He thought, looking into her eyes, and she reached out then, cupping both her hands around the one still holding her mug.

"That's going to get cold," she told him, removing it gently from his grasp and setting it to the side of them. Her touch electrified him. His body tensed in spite of himself.

"We haven't been alone like this in a very long time, Keith Kogane," she said, staring at him with an intensity that was deadly serious, made even more so by the way the twilight shadows kept him from seeing her face. "I have been wondering if it has been deliberate," she said, plunging ahead into a subject she knew she might soon wish she had left alone… she shook her head. _I am sick of waiting_, she thought. _I am sick of wondering_.

Keith sat very still on the cold stone step next to her, his inner calm from his morning meditation gone completely. A million possible answers swam through his head at that instant. He closed his eyes very, very briefly, seeking that calm center, and opened them, once again, to face her. "We haven't been alone like this, not in a long time," he affirmed, knowing the only answers he could give her, the only ones she deserved, were the honest ones, no matter how hard they might be to say. "But not because I haven't wanted to be."

She leaned in close to him, and he could smell the lily scent that clung to her hair. "Then _why_?" she whispered, her voice tangled with many different things.

"Because," he whispered back, aware of the warmth of her nearness, even as it pressed him backwards against the cold stone wall of the garden shed. It made it hard to think. "Because," he tried again, still whispering, heart pounding as the plain, unadorned truth, the only kind he knew, strangled itself out of his throat, "He's my best friend, and we both… have similar feelings. And I don't know how to deal with that."

She did not move, still leaned in close to him as if she was studying him, or memorizing his face. "Yes," was all she said, was all she could say. But still, she did not move, pinning him immobile by nothing more than her nearness. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Keeping her eyes closed, she began to whisper. "When I was in Med Center, that first time, when you carried me there after Alex died, I think I fell in love with you then. You just came and sat. You didn't try to touch me, to make it better, because you knew there was nothing that ever would. I learned your smell then. You would sit with me, and I knew you were there, and I knew I was safe, because you smell like sunshine and the spice of oranges." She opened her eyes then. "You have no idea how much I have missed that smell." Somehow, perhaps because he had been caught up in what she was saying, he hadn't noticed how very, very close she was. Her lips very nearly touched his own.

"I love him like a brother, Allura." he whispered, hoarsely, the pain clear in his voice.

She smiled, and there was a touch of bitterness to it. "I don't," she murmured, still inches from his lips. "It would make things easier. I don't understand any of this, either, Keith. I don't understand how I can watch you, like I just did, and feel the way I feel about you, a little part of me dying inside every time you walk away, wanting to kiss you, to touch you, to be with you, but also have…feelings…for him." Somehow, she had inched her body closer to him, and he could feel her warmth, seeping into him from the front, battling the coldness of the twilight-cooled steps underneath him. Her scent, her presence, her words overwhelmed him, and he wasn't sure if he could have moved a single inch if Planet Doom itself suddenly appeared and dropped right on his head.

"Tell me something," she whispered into his lips.

He nodded slightly, unable to speak. He could not remember the last time he had been this unnerved, heart hammering wildly.

"Do you hate him for it?"

She felt, rather than heard, his surprised, emphatic _No!_ in her head.

"Do you hate me for it?" she whispered again. Again, she felt a sharp, commanding _No!_ in her head, tinged with helplessness, even need.

"Do you feel the ways we are bound together, the ways that go deeper than these frail human lives of ours? Bonds that feel even deeper than bone?" He exhaled, melting completely against the wall of the garden shed, tears leaking from his eyes. Wordless, now, he let his tears be her answer. Her answering tears clung to her eyelashes as she leaned her forehead into his, wrapping her arms around her neck. "Only one more question, my brave, beloved protector," she whispered. Somehow she had managed to twine herself around him so that she was sitting in his lap. "I am ready to stop feeling guilty over that of which we have no control, of that which we know is not our fault. Has the way you both feel about me, and the way I feel about both of you, and the knowing of it, between the two of you, driven you farther apart?'

He rested his spinning head on top of hers, grateful for the images he could send her instead of his strangled, inadequate words:

Her father, King Alfor, explaining why his sword, discovered by Lance, had come to Keith:_ "I asked it to find a champion, a protector, for Allura, in the absence of a candidate of royal blood," he said. He looked at the both of them. "Little did I suspect that she would find two, for although only one of you carries the sword, I can see the ties that bind you all together."_

And then, as the stars of Arus showered down around them:

"_So, let's get this straight, then. Air it out. Both of us love Allura."_

"_Yup."_

"_And she loves both of us."_

"_Seems like it."_

"_And we're sitting here, under this star shower, and we're ok with that? Do you know how crazy that is?"_

"_You mean the fact that we're not beating the shit out of each other right now, or at least smoldering in hatred and plans for revenge? Yeah, I know how crazy that is, Keith. I actually think it's pretty cool." _

"_I don't want to beat the shit out of you, Lance."_

"_Me neither, Keith. If anything, it makes me feel better, that's there two of us, looking out for her, because I don't think there's a woman in the whole damn Galaxy who attracts more trouble than Allura." _

Allura laughed. But Keith had one more, one last image to show her, of her time in Med Center, during what had been her darkest night:

_She had only just begun eating again. The I.V. had come out yesterday, after three days of eating and drinking like a normal person. But she still screamed in her sleep. More than once, Lance had been awakened as he dozed in a chair in her room to the sounds of screaming, only to look into the dark eyes of his commander sitting across from him, Keith's knuckles white from gripping the sides of the chair he rarely left. They had learned not to try to wake her from the screaming nightmares; doing so only made her thrash and fight whoever touched her, until a nurse rushed in to give her a sedative. Lance knew he and Keith weren't concerned about themselves, but rather that, locked in her own private nightmares, touching her would damage her somehow, might make her dream of Lotor, or of being pinned beneath a dying man…. _

"You see?" Keith whispered into her hair. "He was there, too, the whole time. And no, none of this has driven us apart, or made us hate each other. If anything, it's brought us closer, given us a common goal, which is to love and protect _you_. And you're right that it's bigger than us, deeper than us. I just don't know what to do with this, where to go. Lance keeps telling me that we're off the map here, but I don't want to screw this up and hurt either of you. I love you in ways I didn't think were possible, and Lance is like the brother I never had, and now that I've finally found a family, and a place to call home, I don't want to lose it again. I'd die, I think, if I lost this…and I can't think of a single happy ending, some way where someone loses, or gets hurt, and if that happens to one of us, it happens to us all…"

Allura brushed his face lightly with her fingertips, wiping his tears. "But we have today," she said. "It's ok, today, between us, and that's enough for me. Keith Kogane," she whispered, her lips against his, "Has anyone ever told you that you think too damn much?" She kissed him then, her body twined around his, as he crushed her against him like a starving man, his kisses fierce as his hands moved slowly down her back, the twilight fading around them, as the sun rose over a safe, green Arus.

VVVVV

"Can you believe this one?" Lance asked, still sore from Lion practice, holding a thick, ancient-looking book in one hand, a steaming cup of coffee in the other. "Thee See-Grasses of Layke Aelene, and of thee Harvest and Weeving of Themme into Baskettes…"

"It's in Early Modern Arusian," Koran said tersely, flipping rapidly through a thick book before putting it on top of the growing stack beside him. "Be grateful I don't have you hunting through the Middle Arusian section. You'd love that. Just put it back on the shelf, Lance."

"Books," Lance muttered, as he walked over to the proper section to do as he was told.

"It's really quite brilliant," Pidge said, sitting next to Koran surrounded by a stack of datapads. "A lot of this information is backed up electronically, or at the very least catalogued electronically, but what if the destruction had been so total there wasn't even power in the shelters? Books would have been the only kind of accessible knowledge."

"It very nearly came to that, more than once," Allura said, sitting cross-legged in front of her father's model city. She had discovered that by touching any one part of the three-dimensional city, she could make a more detailed version of that particular section appear above the original model. That was how she discovered that her father had planned to name the University after her. She felt her resolve strengthen. She _would_ build this city. She _would_ see her parent's dreams realized.

"I think I've found something," Keith said absently, from a far corner of the room. "Remind me of that name again. The ones we're hoping to form an alliance with?"

Allura and Lance both gravitated towards him, interested. "The Elemental Tribes of Arus," Lance read over Keith's shoulder. "Does that sound about right, Allura?"

"That's it exactly," she said excitedly, standing on her tiptoes as she tried to read over Keith's other shoulder. "Although that looks like a book that's just a generalized overview. More for beginners." She pursed her lips, thinking hard. "You two should hang on to that one, to get a background into where we'll be going. But Koran and I wanted to find something much more specific…." she said absently, as she scanned the bookshelf Keith had pulled the slim volume from.

Lance stepped back, arms across his chest. "Hold on a minute, " he said, not sure he'd heard correctly. "Where is it that _we'll_ be going? And why?"

Keith and Allura exchanged looks. _He missed that part of the conference,_ Keith projected to Allura.

_It was right before Pidge burst in on us, right before we found this room…_ she thought back.

_So of course he doesn't know…and I'd just automatically assumed..._Keith trailed off, looking at his teammate thoughtfully.

"Assumed what?" Lance demanded. "Where is it, exactly, that you're going to drag me, and worst of all, why do I have to do _research_ about it?"

Allura looked torn between amusement and frustration. _I assumed it, too. It's like we just included him, like we just knew…and knew none of the others would come…_

"Hello? I'm right here? Do you mind? If talking about someone like they aren't there is rude, then _thinking_ about them like they aren't there is even ruder when that person _can hear them anyway_…" Lance interjected, annoyed.

Keith tossed the book into his hands. "The Elementals, Lance. The lost tribes of Arus. We're going to find them. Allura and I. And you're coming with us."

"Oh," he said, looking at the book doubtfully. "And I have to do _research_? It can't possibly be much fun, if that's the case…"

"Fun is not the point," huffed Allura. She held a stack of books now, all pulled from the same shelf, and she staggered under their weight. Lance and Keith both grabbed handfuls of them, hoping to stop her from falling over. "Thanks," she said, breathlessly. "No, no, I need those two," she told Keith, reclaiming two of the biggest and heaviest ones from him. "Couches," she told Lance, sensing the question he was about to ask. They staggered over to the ring of couches under the domed ceiling, stacking the books on the floor as they collapsed into them.

_Keith, can you fill him in? I really need to look at these_, she thought at them absently, opening the largest of the books she had reclaimed from him.

_Yes, Keith, can you fill him in? Seeing as he's clueless about something apparently important, apparently involving him…_Lance thought back.

Keith sighed. "Just cool it, McClain. It's not as if we haven't had enough distractions." He dropped his voice, leaning in closer to his friends. "Allura has misgivings about allowing the Garrison to station troops here, and she has some pretty good points."

Lance nodded. He'd had some misgivings about it himself, as well. "Let me guess. She wants as little help from 'the outside' as possible, while we're rebuilding, right? Arus for Arusians?"

Keith smiled. "Something like that. And you know how Koran feels about joining the Alliance. And it would be nice to have some back up at the castle, some extra guards, some air power…" Lance nodded his agreement. "It's a pretty sticky situation all around. Well, Koran and Allura have reached this compromise, involving these isolated, independent groups of people, the Elemental Tribes, they're called, who refused aid right before the attacks, but who may have survived, and may be able to offer support, if called upon in the right manner…"

"Define 'support,'" Lance said, his natural skepticism showing itself. "And what, exactly, is 'the right manner?'"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure," Keith admitted. "But Allura and Koran both seem to be in agreement that if we can get them to agree to some kind of alliance with us, it would go a long way towards solving some of our personnel problems, at least."

"What are you not telling me?" Lance flatly demanded, sensing the unease behind his friend's explanation.

Keith sighed. "The Sword of Altaire. Apparently, although they prefer to remain isolated, these tribes swore themselves to aid the House of Altaire if called upon, in cases of dire need. And they swore this upon the sword. So we're assuming they're at least going to want to see it. Allura says there may be some challenges, or quests, or something, involved, as well; the 'ancient accords' give them the right to challenge the sword's bearer…and since I'm not of the House of Altaire, and Allura is…"

"Oh."

"Yes, Lance, once again, it seems as if some 'magical bullshit,' as you call it, might be involved."

"So why am I going, then?" Lance asked carefully, neutrally, although he already suspected the answer.

"I think you answered that question yourself a couple of nights ago. You made a couple of good points that night, if I recall, that should answer that question." He paused, looking briefly at the woman reading on the couch between them, before looking piercingly back to his friend. "You said something about Allura attracting more trouble than any other woman in the whole damn Galaxy?" Keith asked. His words were light, but the look he was giving Lance was loaded.

"Oh," Lance said again, devoid of any snappy comeback, his stomach suddenly doing flip flops.

Allura, flipping through the second huge book now, elbowed him in the side. "I am not," she countered, petulantly. "But I agree with Keith that just two of us going is too much of a security risk...and we'll be on Arus…we can be back to form Voltron if we need to pretty quickly, and that leaves the castle guarded…" she trailed off, becoming momentarily absorbed in what she was reading. She squinted at the page, reading it once again, before leaping up off the couch and practically running to her counselor to shove the book in his face. "I've found it! Koran! By the goddess, here it is!" she practically shrieked.

Koran dropped the book he was looking through on the floor, staring at the page the princess was waving at him. "I believe you're right, Princess," he said, a look of relief crossing his face. "And it looks large enough to at least begin negotiations…" he trailed off as he studied the page more closely. "Princess, one of the deposits is right underneath the Lake of Fire… isn't that where they have, or had, their largest settlement?"

Allura and Koran shared another one of those long, loaded looks that meant they were using mind speech. She sighed. "I can't decide either. The Water tribes might be able to help me train these mental powers of mine, but the Fire tribes… sitting on a huge deposit of trillium… it's tempting, Koran…"

"The Fire tribes were rumored to have a kind of mind power, as well, Princess, if you'll recall. I know it's not the kind of training you'd prefer. Water really is much more your element, but Lance would be with you, and it's pretty clear where his orientation lies…"

"Trillium?" Lance interrupted, shocked, and not wanting to hear more about magic and his elemental orientation. "You've found deposits of _trillium_? Do you have any idea what that's worth?"

Allura nodded, her face shining. "Koran, please begin the trade negotiations immediately. Sovereign planets and privately controlled corporations only. I'm not ready to negotiate with the Alliance. Not yet. Not until we're in a stronger position." She flopped back down on the couch between Keith and Lance, as happy as they had seen her in days. "We can negotiate for almost anything we need, now, within reason. Like fighters to replace the ones we've lost. Like building and mining equipment, and materials…" She slipped an arm around each of the men sitting beside her, drawing them into a heartfelt hug. "Gentlemen," she announced impishly. "It's time to make out your wish lists."

_Privately controlled corporations_, Lance thought to himself, a sense of dread rising within him. _Trillium. And_ _fighters, military grade_…._please, not Earth, there's only one corporation like that there…_

The castle alarms began shrieking at full blast.


	19. Chapter 19: Off the Map

Author's note: Thanks to Heart of Demons for the weapons suggestions. And the anime! Heart, this axe is for you… Also, I once again might rate this on the PG-13 side of "T," because of violence and cursing. Oh, and a bit of angst.

Playlist: Some live collaboration of Calexico involving a Mariachi band and a sultry French singer. Strange, but true.

And, as always, all standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Nineteen:

Off the Map

Keith gripped the control bar of Black Lion more tightly than was strictly necessary. _Her first actual battle_, he thought grimly. She had performed admirably in their early morning drills, but actual battle… he had seen trained Garrison soldiers, who had spent years at the Academy, lose it when confronted with their first real battle. _She did fine against that last Robeast…_ he tried to reassure himself. But she had been back up then, and now….

"I'm not seeing ground troops, Keith," Lance broke in over the comm. system. "And minimal air support. What's going on, do you think?"

Keith took a deep breath, glad for the interruption. "No, you're right, Lance, it looks pretty quiet out here." He forced his mind into that place of calmness, centering himself, preparing himself for the coming battle while shedding distractions. "So we're probably in very deep shit."

"Just what I was thinking, Commander," Lance shot back, laughing.

"Pidge, run a scan. I want to know what's out there that we're _not_ seeing," Keith ordered. "Standard V formation, people, just like we've practiced. Nice and steady until we know what they're going to throw at us. Allura, at my four, Pidge, behind her; Lance, you're at my seven, with Hunk shadowing."

"Got it," Pidge and Hunk chimed in.

"Yes sir," Allura said. "I mean, Keith," she hastened to add. He had explained they didn't stand on formality much, but she wanted to impress upon them all just how serious she was about piloting Blue Lion, about being able to hold her own…

Lance said nothing, just maintained his position in Red Lion. On the one hand, he was itching to burn out some Drule, but on the other hand, Allura was still their weakest link… _Oh well,_ he thought. _ We're going to have to break her in some time…_

"I'm picking up a massive command ship just outside Arus's atmosphere… it's just sitting there, Keith, and it's got a couple of squadrons of Drule fighters, but they're flying in defensive positions around it, not attack…"

Pidge trailed off as a familiar voice broke in over their comm. systems. "Greetings, _slaves_," came a familiar, lazy drawl. "It's been too long since we last saw each other. Or, at least, since I last saw two of you. And I believe the two of you took something, or someone, that belonged to me…"

_He's doesn't know I'm here,_ Allura projected, incredulous, to all of them. _He doesn't know Sven isn't here_…

_Let's keep it that way,_ Keith projected back.

_But that means Doom doesn't have him_, Allura insisted, including all of them in her mind-speech again.

_FOCUS!_ Keith ordered. _Not now! Now we've got to focus on whatever he's about to throw at us… and Allura… under no circumstances are you to reveal your presence in any way. Maintain comm. silence._ Out loud, he said, "What do you want, Lotor? Come back for another beating?"

The Prince of Doom growled. "Commander Kogane. A slave _and _a thief. If you weren't a grave robber, which you must be, for how else could a commoner such as yourself have gotten hold of that particular sword, then you would be last week's Robeast scraps, and I would be enjoying the company of a certain delectable blue-eyed Princess…she rather seemed to enjoy mine, for a while, right, Commander?"

Blue Lion wavered slightly in formation. _Sorry_, she projected to the rest of the Force. They could all feel her rage.

_Steady there_, Keith thought at her.

Lance growled and a puff of smoke shot out of Red Lion's jaws. "Did you come here to talk us to death, Lotor? Because you interrupted a really fascinating game called 'Name the Galaxy's Ugliest Princes,' starting with the letter L, and guess who won?"

"We've got movement, Keith," Pidge broke in. "The fighters just broke formation around the command ship."

"Yes, well, I hope you enjoy this next little surprise," Lotor continued. "A certain evil witch we both know was sooo disappointed when you didn't like her last one. Perhaps this one will be more agreeable. Once it's destroyed you all, I think I'll pay another visit to the princess…"

"We've got a coffin," Pidge confirmed.

"Just wanted to remind you, Lotor," Keith said, "in case you've forgotten, that I look forward to killing you." He cut off communications with the Drule Prince before Lotor could reply. "What are we dealing with, Pidge? Can you pick up anything?" Keith asked as they all watched the coffin craft land and begin to open.

"Not picking up any wild fluctuations like the last time," Pidge said, "but there are some similarities in the energy readings… I wish I could tell you more, right now, but that's all I've got."

"Ok people, I want you to hang back while Lance and I get a close-up. Allura, I want you shadowing Pidge."

"Got it," she answered back. He had expected some kind of argument, but gotten instantaneous agreement instead. Good.

Lance was already flying circles around the coffin as it opened. "It's looking pretty standard, so far, Keith. Arms, legs, a whitish pale color, and ugly, of course, although I'd judge this vintage to be only medium-ugly. I might recommend pairing it with the fish, or the chicken…"

"Yew, gross, Lance. You always manage to be so disgustingly out of context with the food metaphors," Allura said. He laughed at her.

"Roasted chicken, then, Lance," Keith ordered, moving in to slice it with the long blades appearing in Black Lion's mouth. He sliced through what looked to be a leg and felt relief when he saw Robeast flesh actually separating, instead of encountering a gelatinous mass that sucked him in, like last time. Lance went to work on the arms, shooting a combination of flames and lasers as it crawled up out of the coffin.

"Standard operating procedure so far. Let's try to annoy it away from the castle before we form Voltron and finish it off. Pidge, what's that command ship doing?'

"It hasn't moved. It looks like it's going to let this Robeast do all its dirty work for it."

"Maybe Zarkon's finally learning to take us seriously," Allura said. "Orders, Commander?"

The Robeast had emerged fully now and was taking swipes at Red and Black Lions. "Just move in and give it what you've got. Allura, I want you at my four," Keith said, anticipating an argument about being overly protective, but he didn't get one. Blue Lion moved silently into formation behind him as the rest of the Lions let loose with laser cannons, claws and extended blades, fire blasts, torpedoes, and everything else they could think of it. "That's it," Keith said. "Now let's move towards the blasted zones to the south of the castle…slow and steady, like a fish on a hook…" The Robeast was almost disturbingly plain looking, lacking any of Haggar's usual flourishes; it had no wings, or multiple eyes, or extra limbs, and so far, had displayed no unusual powers like death ray eyes or debilitating screams… nothing besides the usual brute strength and stupidity…

Far from being angry at Keith's protectiveness, she was glad to hang back, shadowing him. Something about the Robeast disturbed her on a deep level, and although she couldn't identify the feeling, she felt it strongly enough to point it out.

"Keith?" she said, as she saw her Commander sink Black Lion's claws into the Robeast's side and watched as webs of white fire shot out from them. "I have a funny feeling about this one…"

"Explain yourself, Allura," he said, as Black Lion added its bite to its claw attack. Although he was concentrating fiercely, 'a funny feeling' was the first warning they'd gotten about the last Robeast, too, before it had turned into a magical booby trap that had consumed them all…

"I can't, exactly. I'm sorry. It just looks…familiar…or something, to me…"

She was grateful when he didn't brush her off or tell her to be quiet. "Just keep paying attention to that 'funny feeling,' Allura," he ordered, "and tell us if it gets stronger, or if you can identify something tangible."

They had maneuvered the creature far enough south of the castle that Keith felt confident they could take it out without damaging the structure. "Ok people, let's finish off this lame excuse for a Robeast," he said. "Are we ready to form Voltron?"

As his teammates cried out affirmatives, Hunk broke in as the Lions began their ascent. "Pidge and I implemented a surprise of sorts, Keith, if you get the chance to use it."

"Yeah," Pidge added, excitedly. "We implemented a battle-axe option to supplement the blazing sword command. In cases where brute force is more effective than sword work. I know we haven't tested it in practice, but we wanted to let you know we have the option."

"Will do, guys. Keep those shiny new weapons coming," he said, grateful for his duo of technological and mechanical wizards.

"All right, team, ready to assemble?" To the chorus of affirmatives, he called out the initiating sequence:

"_Activate interlocks! _

_Dyna-therms connected. _

_Infra-cells up; _

_Mega-thrusters are go! _

_Form feet and legs; _

_Form arms and body; _

_And I'll form… the head!"_

As the newly formed, shining Robot Defender of Planet Arus descended from the clouds, the waiting Robeast grew strangely still. Unlike any of their previous encounters with the creatures, it simply stood there, watching as Voltron landed within striking distance, and made no aggressive movements toward it whatsoever.

"Keith," Allura broke in. "I'm really, really not liking this. This is not normal Robeast behavior," she said, wishing she had something more than a strong "funny feeling" to go on.

"Be advised, people," Keith said. "Allura's right. Something's strange about that Robeast…"

"It just seems so…familiar…" Allura said, then gasped as the Robeast began to shimmer, and an unmistakable wave of Haggar's dark magic swept over her like a tidal wave, making her gut clench and her vision blur. She grabbed the console in front of her and tried to get out a warning… "It's magical!" she screamed over the comm. system. "It's got some kind of magical component… Haggar's dark magic is all over it!" She doubled over then, her head feeling like it might explode…

"I'm not taking any chances this time," Keith said, grimly determined. "Let's be ready with that new weapon of yours, Pidge and Hunk. _Form Shining Axe_!"

As the glowing battle-axe took form between Voltron's hands, Hunk couldn't help but let out a low whistle. "Sweet," he said.

"Looks like fun, there, Pidge, Hunk," Lance started to say. Then he looked up at the Robeast.

And found himself staring straight into one of his darker childhood memories.

_He was twelve. He was staring miserably at his dinner plate that sat, untouched, on the white linen tablecloth. Roast beef with mashed potatoes. Something he might have liked, if they would just stop screaming…Maybe later he would get his appetite back, could sneak down to the kitchen and find something, for himself and for Charlotte, who was looking down into her plate, tears leaking into her mashed potatoes. They sat across from each other in the exact middle of a table that could seat at least twelve. Their parents usually sat at either end of the ridiculously long table, his father at the head, his mother at the foot, as if their goal was to put as much space between the members of the McClain family as possible. His mother was standing near his father's chair tonight, though, emboldened, perhaps, by the fourth or fifth glass of brandy in her hand. Her silver gown brushed the floor. The McClains dressed for dinner, as befitted their status, and anything less was a punishable offense. His sister Charlotte wore a satin dress, and he pulled nervously on his tie. _

_"How could you, Arthur?" his mother raged, holding on to the back of his father's chair for support as she screamed. Her words were slurred but forceful. "You've disgraced this family for the last time! She's a whore! A common whore! And you didn't even have the decency to even try to hide it from me!" His mother paused in her screaming and switched to sobbing as she threw her drink in his father's face. "You can't keep doing this to me. I demand a divorce!"_

_Arthur McClain, Baronet of the Highlands and president and CEO of McClain Aeronautics and Industrials, grabbed his mother's wrist savagely, knocking over his own glass of scotch as he did so. He pulled Lance's mother against him as he stood, still holding her by the wrist, twisting it until she cried out. "You're pathetic, Vivienne," he spat at her. "I will never let you leave. You belong to me, do you understand me? You and these children belong to me, and I will never let you leave." Lance watched as his father slapped his mother, his beautiful, red-haired mother, across the face. She struggled against him, but he held her firmly by the wrist, twisting it still. Charlotte was sobbing quietly, both hands over her mouth, trying to make as little sound as possible as her huge wet eyes looked at Lance in fear. Charlotte was six. He felt his anger boil up inside, the anger that was like fire that always lived close to his heart. "Charlotte," he whispered, "Get under the table and stay there."_

_She shook her head at him, her huge wet eyes wide. "Lance, no! Not again! Maybe they'll stop soon, Lance. Please!" But he was already sliding his chair back, reaching for the fiery anger, letting it cover him like a cloak. So when Sir Arthur McClain swung forward with his clenched fist, intending to teach his wife a lesson, his twelve year old son was suddenly between them, taking the blow meant for his mother, punching back with one of his own, yelling at him to leave his mother alone…_

_Later, he lay curled in on himself in the relative safety of his darkened bedroom, his headphones attached to the sound system that took up the entire front wall of the room. He closed his eyes tightly as he let the music take him away, from his gilded prison of a home, from the very real pain of his father's fists…until he felt her slip into the curve of his body, her head fitting perfectly under his chin as she curled her knees up between them and wrapped her arms around his sides. Her hair tickled his nose and smelled like flowers. She said nothing until the song was over; she could hear it through his headphones, he had it turned up that loud. When it was over he pulled them off and buried his face in her hair. "Hey there, Charlotte," he whispered. _

_"Are you ok?" she asked softly._

_"Yeah, I'm ok," he lied. His reached out and pulled her close. _

_"You're going to run away again," she accused. He did not contradict her. "Will you take me with you?"_

_His smile was bitter in the darkness as he kissed her head. "I wish I could, sweetheart. But running away is more dangerous for girls. But I'll come back, Charlotte, you know that."_

_She snuggled into him. "Yes, you always do…"_

Keith stared at the shining new weapon Pidge and Hunk had cooked up, excited about the possibilities of adding new weaponry to the already impressive Voltron. He was just about to add his congratulations to Lance's when he looked up at the disappointingly normal looking Robeast… And found himself in the back seat of his parent's car, so many years before…

_He was twelve. His presents were piled onto the seat next to him. He eyed them with the barely concealed impatience of a boy who knew his heart's desire lay only inches from him, untouchable in its wrapping paper until they got to his aunt's house for the party. He knew what was in it; he had seen it hidden under the bed, and he couldn't wait. Why did he have to wait? It was his own stupid birthday; he should be able to do what he wanted… _

_His parents were taking in low voices in the front seat. They thought he couldn't hear them. Adults always did. They weren't fighting; the Koganes rarely fought. But they were having one of those serious conversations they tended to avoid in his presence. It was about money. It often was, these days. His mother talked a lot about returning home, and when she said home, she meant overseas…. He didn't want to move. He liked his friends, liked his school… his father didn't want to go back either, but the conversation kept happening… _

_His mother screamed as his father jerked the wheel sharply, but not sharply enough. The safety glass of the windshield crackled inward like a spider's web as the two cars collided, shattering across the front and back seats of the car like an explosion of diamonds. He was cocooned in a nest of air bags, but he could see his parents, his mother leaning into his father, thrown forward onto the steering wheel that had, for some reason, not deployed its air bag. Neither of them moved. Through the open space where the windshield had been, he could see fat snowflakes swirling in the wind. His presents had been crushed in the impact, and by turning his head as far as he could, he could see that he had gotten the one he wanted; the model plane lay half out of its box, broken pieces scattered across the back seat…._

Pidge was glowing from the praise he was getting over the shining axe; he was pretty confident it would work as well as it had during the tests he and Hunk had performed through the simulations, but still, to hear his teammates praise him was great…but they were suddenly, ominously silent, and he looked up to see the unremarkable Robeast just standing there…

…_His mother lay propped up in her bed in the hospital, smiling her weak smile at him. They had a chess board set up on the rolling, adjustable hospital table between them. She had been teaching him to play, telling him over and over what a quick learner he was, and he looked forward to yet another game with her as soon as school let out. He would rush to the hospital and spend as much time with her as he could, staying, even, until after dinner, until they changed shifts at the hospital and he had to go to the neighbor's house where he had been staying since she got sick. He saw her get gradually weaker and weaker, but always the chess board was set up, waiting for him, and she always had a smile for him, no matter how weak she was, no matter what it cost her, until one day, he rushed in from school, and he saw the social worker sitting in the hall outside her room, with the chess board all folded up, on top of a bag full of some of his things from the neighbor's house, and he knew then, but he didn't cry. He just let the social worker take him by the hand, and he left the hospital with her, and never saw his mother again…_

Princess Allura, doubled over her console, buffeted by waves of dark magic, tried to fight them inside her mind, but the magic seemed to know her, to know the inside of her mind intimately, and as she tried, desperately, to hang on to her thoughts, to fight back, to protect her teammates from this threat she hoped she could break, but she felt herself being dragged under, until she was engulfed in the dark magic, was drowning in it…

"_Princess," Koran said urgently, "you must come with me, immediately." She was eight, and she was sleepy. She clutched her favorite toy, a stuffed Black lion, close to her as her father's friend and advisor shook her, rather roughly, she thought petulantly. When she mumbled at him that it was bedtime, her mother had said so when she tucked her in that night, Koran simply reached down and lifted her out of the bed, cradling her close to his chest. Outrage filled her. She was the Royal Princess of Arus. He did not have the right to handle her like that. No one did; she would tell her parents, and they would punish him…maybe even banish him…_

"_We have no time, Princess," he told her, quietly but firmly. "You must be very, very quiet, and not make a sound, no matter what you hear or see…" As he carried her, quickly, out of her room, she realized she had left Blackie in her bed, and she began to fuss and thrash. Blackie was her favorite. She started to yell at this bad man who was kidnapping her to bring her Blackie with them, or else, when he placed his hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. She bit him, and he grunted, but otherwise did not react. Something was wrong. Where were her guards? Where were her maids? Koran began to run, and she found herself in her mother's chambers, the ones that looked down on the gardens. She began kicking furiously then, biting and scratching, until Koran let her go with a low curse. Soundlessly she ran to the window and saw both her parents kneeling in the garden with guns to their backs, and she was just about to cry out to her mother when Koran, once again, slapped his hand over her mouth… strange soldiers raised their guns on her parents… "We have to get you out," Koran said, desperately. "Do you understand now?" But the scene in the garden transfixed her, as the soldiers lifted their guns… Her father did not cower, nor did her mother, their spines straight…_

_The scene froze. "You don't have to watch this," said her father's voice behind her. She turned to see her father standing before her, whole and smiling at her, arms outstretched to catch her into his embrace. "You don't have to see this, Allura. It's a trick. It's dark magic. You can fight it. You must fight it. You are the only one… it will drain you, but you must free your friends. They are caught in the witch's grasp once again, reliving what they most fear, and if you do not reach them, then the witch will win, Zarkon and his armies will win…"_

"_But how, Father?" she asked. "I'm caught, too, stuck here…"_

"_You can do it. Voltron will help you. Draw upon him when your powers feel gone; it will almost burn you out, but you must do it. After, you must seek out the training you need, and the healing you will need. Trust your protectors in this; you will need them…"_

_Allura closed her eyes as the awful vision faded around her, reaching deep within herself to some nameless place of power, reaching out to the spirit she felt pulsing through the great protector that was Voltron, pouring herself into him, pushing against the dark magic with all she had, using him to call to her teammates, protectors, friends, loves, calling their names with the great robot defender as her conduit…_

…And awoke staring at her console, screaming out their names, "Keith! Lance! Kill it! Use the axe!"

Keith shook his head, feeling the fog lift, and felt Allura's distress… it felt as if she was fading, leaving them, until he could no longer feel her bright presence in his mind… "Lance!" he yelled into the comm. system. "Use the axe, dammit! If you can hear me, use the shining axe!" And the great robot rushed forward towards the unremarkable looking, but deceptively dangerous Robeast, and cut through it, straight down the middle with one mighty swipe…As the Lions separated, he tried to banish the memory of the crash, to focus, to find his calm center.

"Roll call, people," he said, a bit weakly.

"Here," Hunk and Pidge answered, sounding as shaken as he had ever heard them.

"Jesus Christ," Lance swore, and Keith heard something in his voice he hadn't ever heard before. Terror.

And then, silence.

"Blue Lion, respond," he said, getting no reply. "Allura! Respond! Allura!" He couldn't sense her in his mind.

"I can't feel her either, Keith," Lance said weakly.

Keith cursed, letting down the ramp as fast as he could, but Lance, having landed closer to her, was already emerging from Blue Lion, Allura cradled in his arms, her head lolling back, limp in Lance's arms. Lance had tears in his eyes. "She won't respond," he said. His eyes were lost, empty. He held her close against his shoulder, rubbing her back. "She's breathing, she has a pulse, but she won't respond," he said. "Allura, love," he whispered into her ear. "Please come back to us."

Allura opened her eyes and looked up into Lance's tear-streaked face and smiled. "I heard you. I heard what you called me," she said, dazed, before closing her eyes against the dizzying sun. "Father said, trust you. Both of you. To get me to the training I need. The healing. Lance, my mind is burned." She tried to lean out from his arms. "Lance, I'm sorry. I'm hangovered. It was the magic…" and she threw up on his boots before passing back out. Lance closed his eyes, breathing out a prayer of thanks as he ran with her to Black Lion. He didn't think he'd ever been so grateful to have someone throw up on him before. "Keith, you have to get us to Med Center. I'll hold her. Black is fastest."

Keith was already strapping in as Lance settled into a jump seat with an unconscious Allura in his arms. "What did she say?" he demanded tersely.

"She said her father told her to trust us. Both of us. That we needed to get her somewhere where she could be trained, and heal. To manage her powers, I suppose." He cradled her closer, next to his heart. "She said she was burned, inside her head, and had a hangover," he half laughed, and half sobbed. Keith didn't ask him what his friend had told Allura, what he had called her when he tried to wake her up. He had heard that part. Lance had called her "love." And still, he felt no anger, no jealousy, only pure, naked fear for the woman cradled in the arms of his best friend and brother.

VVVVV

They all watched, helplessly, as she shook uncontrollably in Nanny's arms in a bed in Med Center. The older woman had covered Allura with several thermal blankets, and was using her own ample form as an extra source of warmth. "Ssshh, my poor, poor baby," the older woman whispered, brushing back Allura's long blonde hair, hanging in sweaty strands around her face. Nanny would not let go of Allura except when she needed to be carried into the washroom to dry heave. Keith and Lance took turns doing that, holding back her hair and rubbing her back. Then she was back in Nanny's arms, shaking, crying out that she was cold, so cold. The lights were turned down in the room as well; light and movement made her dizzy and her head pound even more, she said, and made her even more nauseous. Dr. Gorma kept vigil at her bedside with the rest of them

"Is this what happened on Doom?" he asked Keith. "After Lotor's first attack?"

"Almost exactly, except that it seems worse, this time," he replied.

Dr. Gorma frowned. "And how long did the symptoms persist, on Doom?"

"It seemed to be at least a full day, perhaps a day and a half, but I can't be sure. We were in an observation room in Haggar's laboratory, and there were no clocks, of course."

Dr. Gorma sighed. "I suppose I don't have to tell you gentleman that I have no real idea how to help the princess. There is no medical diagnosis for this, let alone any kind of remedy." Nanny wiped Allura's face with a warm, damp cloth as the princess cried out that she was cold, that she was going to be sick again. Lance stepped up and gathered her in his arms. Shortly thereafter they heard her retching. "I'm afraid of what will happen if we don't get her some kind of help."

Keith was silent for a moment as Lance placed Allura back next to Nanny. "We have it on good authority that we can get some help for her if we take her to one of the Elemental Tribes. We were told that she could get help there, both with healing, and with training."

Lance had slipped up beside the two men. "When do you think she can be moved, Doctor?"

Dr. Gorma shook his head. "I don't know. Normally, I would never let a patient in her condition out the door. But then, this isn't normal." He rubbed his temples. "I would recommend you move her as soon as possible."

Lance and Keith exchanged looks.

_As soon as possible,_ Lance thought. _I can be ready in about fifteen minutes._

_Me too,_ Keith thought back. _ But we need to check with Koran, first. Think we can coax Nanny away from her long enough to pack her a bag?_

Lance looked at the two women on the bed grimly. _Maybe if we explain it may be Allura's only chance, AND we both really pour on the charm._

_And even then, we may have to sick Koran on her,_ Keith added.

_Where are we going?_ Lance asked. _Fire or water?_

_Well, she can't pilot Blue, so she'll have to ride in either Black or Red. And Red… Koran says the Fire Tribes had something to do with forging it, so it seems to make the most sense to start there._

Lance nodded. Some part of him had known that, all along. _Who's she riding with?_

Keith smiled grimly. _I bet the Lions have decided for us. I bet, in either Black or Red, there's a cot of some kind instead of a jump seat._

_I bet you're right_, Lance added. Out loud, he said, "We're going to pack. If we don't get her the help she needs, and soon, it may be too late."

Nanny sobbed and rocked Allura. "My poor baby," she said. She looked wildly around the room, spotting Hunk's huge form lurking in the corner. "You!" she commanded. He jumped, looking guilty, although he had done nothing wrong. Nanny had that effect on people. "You are the largest. You will hold my baby while I get some things for her. I will not send her off into the wilds of Arus with only her uniform. She will go," Nanny began sobbing heavily now. "She will go as a Princess should, and I shall pack her a bag." Keith and Lance stared at one another, open-mouthed. Nanny turned on Hunk. "Well? Are you deaf? Get over here and keep her warm. Now!"

Hunk looked acutely uncomfortable as he slid into the hospital bed with the Princess of Arus in his arms. "It'll be ok, Allura," he said, as she shook against him.

Nanny sailed out of the room, pausing only to glare at Lance and Keith fiercely. "If you do not make her well, and look after her in every possible way, I will hunt you down and make you wish you were still in Zarkon's dungeons." The older lady stalked out of the room.

"Well," Lance said, taken aback. "I'll meet you at the Lions in fifteen minutes. We'll call you, Dr. Gorma, as soon as we're ready for her to be moved."

They paused in the doorway, concern for Allura crowding out the enormity of what they were about to do. They were about to seek out a group of people who had had no contact with the ruling family of Arus for a decade, who may or may not have survived Zarkon's attacks, bring them a magically sick princess, demand their aid with both healing and training her, try to forge some kind of alliance that might also require a quest or challenge involving the Sword of Altaire, and demand they honor an ancient agreement by providing them with personnel and access to the vast deposit of trillium they happened to be sitting on, neither one of them being native Arusians, and the both of them in love with the same woman, who might actually also love them back, all the while watching their backs for more visits from Haggar, Zarkon, and his evil blue Royal spawn.

"Right," Keith seconded. "Fifteen minutes. The Lions." And he took off down the hall running for his quarters and for Koran.


	20. Chapter 20: Playing with Fire

Author's note: The gratitude list keeps growing, especially to wade wells, Mertz, Ms. Mara Jade, peacock feather, kitten (here's 20!), Star Duchess, Heart of Demons, Rocky Oberlin, who so often guesses right, and a special thanks to Xia Cheyenne, who asked about playing with the "M" line? Well, let me warn everyone: I still do not personally think this rates an "M," but, IT DOES CONTAIN A NAILBITING ADULT SITUATION_,_ a most decided  PG-13; but there is nothing "graphic;" i.e. anatomy, nudity, etc. I am also actually going to do it, Xia Cheyenne, and post an interpretation of this chapter, and chapter 18, with a no-holds barred "M" rating, for those of us who want a little more.

I must also throw in a pairing warning: This fic is billed as edgy K&A WITH COMPETITION; let me re-emphasize the words "edgy" and "competition." I'll also freely admit that when I started this fic I had no idea just how much "competition" would be involved. But the characters had other ideas, I guess, and this is their story, so far be it from me to tell them what to do. They might decide to all marry Robeasts out of revenge, or something. But I have gotten some GREAT suggestions about what to do about it (*thanks Star Duchess with an evil grin*) so we'll see, maybe the characters will like some of these ideas…. But I promised K&A with competition, and that's what I'm sticking to…

Which brings me to one other point: I use primarily two sources: the original cartoon, and the Devil's Due comics version. DD is probably my heaviest source because it's printed and easy to grab if I need to look something up. I have tried to stay true to the character's backgrounds as much as possible, but of course there are deviations: Koran is spelled with a K, and Sven is Norwegian instead of Swedish (ok, ok, I got mad at IKEA one day), but the character I've taken the most liberty with is Lance. I've never intended to deviate completely from his DD bio, but to play with it, use it as a springboard, so to speak… for a tiny bit more on Lance's loosely interpreted background, see my short fic "Brother Mine."

Playlist: Ryan Adams, skipped through "Cold Roses" and some live stuff, and also this band called Spiritualized.

And all standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

**ONCE AGAIN, THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS AN ADULT SITUATION **

Chapter Twenty:

Playing with Fire

"I sure hope we can find this place before nightfall," Lance said to Keith over the comm. system.

"I do too, Lance," Keith replied. "All we really have to go on is information from before the war started, so we're pretty limited in what we know now. The best Koran was able to do was supply us with the maps and information for the Fire tribes as he last knew them. I've programmed the coordinates for the last known major settlement. "

"And if we don't find them there?" Lance asked, looking at the shaking princess strapped down behind him in Red Lion.

Keith sounded grim. "Then we keep looking. What else can we do?"

"Have we thought about the possibility that there may be no one out here at all? That they have all been wiped out?"

Keith sounded irritated when he replied. "Of course we have, Lance. But what real choices do we have? If we strike out with these Fire people, then we'll move on to the next of the Elementals, and so on and so on. I know we all must feel like we jumped the gun on this a bit. Allura and Koran were hoping we could approach this more as a diplomatic and exploratory mission, but with the Princess the way she is…. Well, you heard Dr. Gorma."

"I know," Lance said, sounding equally frustrated. "Look, Keith, she's in bad shape." He looked back at the princess as his Lion followed Black. They were flying west, where the last great settlement of the Fire tribes had been rumored to be, before the attacks, and they were almost racing the sun itself to get there, their Lions flying fast yet steadily, so as not to disturb the writhing princess, towards the coordinates Koran had given them, along with a hastily thrown-together folder that contained all the information he'd been able to gather on their destination, and on the people he hoped would be at the end of it. Lance really wished he'd done that research he'd been whining about.

"Tell me," Keith said, almost not wanting to know. She had been bad enough in Med Center. Her shaking had gotten so much worse by the time they got her secured in Red Lion that he almost wanted to call off the whole thing. Maybe he and Lance could go on their own, find someone, and bring them back… but Dr. Gorma was insistent that they get help for her immediately, that there was nothing they could do for her at the castle.

Lance swiveled in his pilot's seat. Allura was barely conscious at this point, still shaking fiercely. She had stopped complaining of being cold, or of her head hurting. For the last half hour or so her verbal communications had been limited to moans of pain, or mumblings so low and unintelligible that Lance wondered if she even knew that she was making sounds at all. They had wrapped her in thermal blankets before strapping her in, but nothing seemed able to stop the shaking. He turned back to the video link between the Lions. "It's bad, Keith. She's not talking at all, and the shaking has gotten worse. I've got the heat up in Red so high I feel like I need my swimsuit, and it doesn't seem to be helping at all."

From his Lion, Keith looked grim. "We've got everything we need to make a decent camp once we get to these coordinates, if we don't find these people right away. I hate like hell to have to put Allura through that, but Dr. Gorma swears there's no difference for her, really, between a decent bed out here and a decent one in Med Center. The really important thing is that out here we might have a chance of finding someone who can help her."

"I know, I know. I just…" Lance looked at the shaking woman in the cockpit of his Lion. "I feel so helpless. Is that what it was like for you, on Doom?"

"On Doom, it was like this, but I had no idea what lay in store for us when they finally decided to come for us."

Lance shook his head at his Commander in sympathy. "And we still have no idea what's in store for us at the end of this wild goose chase."

Keith sighed. "Let's try not to think that way, Lance," he said, trying to boost morale. _Wasn't that a part of the job description?_ he thought. _Hadn't it been, once, not that long ago? Oh, yeah, but there was a point when this stopped being a job, and started being my life…_

Allura's trembling got stronger and she started murmuring again. Lance thought he could make out words like "cold," "hurts," and "Mother," but her lips barely parted as she tried to make the sounds. He put Red on autopilot and wedged himself between her and his pilot's seat. "Keith," he said anxiously, an edge to his voice that had not been there before. "How much longer do we have before arrival?"

"Twenty minutes or so. Why?" he demanded, sharply.

Lance put his hand to the princess's forehead. "She's absolutely burning up and her other symptoms seem worse. I'm worried she's not going to make it that far. Strapped in like this, there isn't much we can do for her. Red may have had a berth waiting for her, but it didn't grow any cabin space… do we have any contingency plans?"

"Flying faster might make it too rough for her. If we have to, we can go ahead and land and set up some kind of base camp, and then I'll fly on ahead and try to get help." Keith clenched his fists. It would mean leaving them, but Black was faster, and he was better versed in the topography, he'd actually read the research, and would bet Lance hadn't…

"Twenty more minutes, Allura," Lance pleaded with her, knowing she couldn't really hear him. "Can you make it that long? I can't promise we'll find what we're looking for, not right away, but in twenty more minutes, we can land, make camp, get you more comfortable…" he pleaded.

"We've got mountains coming up ahead," Keith broke in. "We're going to skirt the base of the mountain range, and in fifteen or so minutes, we're supposed to reach…."

Allura's eyes rolled back in her head as she arched her back and cried out. She thrashed and cried out again. "Keith!" Lance yelled, throwing himself back into the pilot's seat, touching several screens around him while pulling on the control bar to begin Red Lion's descent. "She's convulsing, Keith. We've got to land now."

His commander's mouth was set in a grim line. "Make for as close to the base of those mountains as possible. It's the only cover out here of any kind. I'll try and raise Dr. Gorma. Let's see what we can do to get her stable and then get some kind of base established."

As the Lions touched down in the gathering shadows of the mountain range, Allura continued to thrash. They each knew the other's thoughts at that moment, for they were nearly identical. _Hang on, Allura. Just hang on._

VVVVV

With some stone outcroppings to offer a little shelter, they landed the Lions as close to the base of the mountains as they could. Neither one of them was comfortable setting up camp in a completely exposed space like the one they had just flown over, which had looked to be a deserted wasteland that had stretched on for miles. The maps Koran had given them before their hasty departure had indicated that the vast stretch of land they'd just flow over had always been flat, but had once had rivers and fertile spots running across it, much like the parts of Africa that flourished during the rainy seasons on Earth. Their flyover, however, had not turned up any rivers or any signs of life so far. The land looked less ravaged than the area around the castle and some of the towns around the castle had been, but it still looked wasted, and very much deserted. Keith knew he would follow the coordinates Koran had given him, that he would stick to the plan they had developed, but half his mind was already thinking through to the next group they were supposed to seek out, the Water Elementals. Half of him, he knew, had already given up, and he just hoped he and Lance could get Allura stabilized, if not comfortable, while he scouted ahead.

He had the equipment unloaded from Black Lion before Lance had Allura out of Red. He had insisted on treating this as a field operation rather than as a diplomatic mission, a point of contention, initially, between Koran and himself. He supposed it was easier for him to see the potential threat and hostility inherent in an operation like this than it was for Koran, who thought like a diplomat and who had been used to interaction, although limited, with the Elemental tribes before the war began. And then the situation had become an emergency when that last Robeast had shown up. _That's twice now_, Keith thought, almost as angry at himself as he was at Planet Doom. _Twice she's saved our butts from Robeast attacks that would have otherwise killed us. Twice that she's almost died from those same attacks. And I've been thinking of her as our 'weakest link.'_

As soon as Red Lion touched down, Lance was up and moving, unstrapping the shaking princess from her secure berth and scooping her up, thermal blankets and all, against his chest. She shook against him still, and her hands were clenched into fists across her chest, but she appeared to have stopped convulsing when he unstrapped her. Perhaps it had something to do with being held, he wondered. She hadn't convulsed in Med Center, but then she had been held by some member of the Force or by Nanny the entire time she had been there. Keith confirmed that he had held her throughout much of her ordeal on Doom, when she had been weakened by Lotor's attack. He adjusted her so that her head was resting on his shoulder and descended with her from Red Lion.

Keith was nothing if not a swift and precise soldier. By the time Lance emerged with Allura, he had already set up the Arusian equivalent of a combat tent, scavenged from the remaining military stockpiles, and was already setting up the interior. The structure was opaque and seamless, designed to blend in with its surroundings and possessed the ability to be programmed into a variety of shapes, colors, and patterns to fit a variety of conditions and terrains. Keith had set it to hug one of the larger stones at the base of the mountain, and programmed it in a similar tan color, trying to make it blend in as much as they were able as they raced to set up camp against the setting sun.

Lance carried the shaking princess into the structure and laid her carefully within one of the sleeping bags lying on top of one of the cots. Once she was lying flat on a larger surface, and unbound, Allura curled up on her side and hugged herself. Being freed of the restraints in Red Lion seemed to help her condition somewhat.

"She was like that on Doom," Keith said, pausing in his labors to watch the unconscious princess as she trembled and moaned. "She stay curled on her side almost the entire time, but we only had a couple of regular blankets, and no one stepped in with any kind of help, so I …I just held her, did my best to keep her warm." He looked at her with tenderness tempered with concern.

Lance nodded thoughtfully. "How does she seem now, as compared to then?"

"Worse," Keith said, his voice cracking with concern. "She was conscious then, and even talkative, at least some of the time. And I had to carry her to the bathroom, even though all she could do was dry heave." He shook his head, eyes haunted at the memories. "Do you know she actually apologized for that? She seemed so embarrassed."

"Throwing up all over me would be a real welcome improvement from her right now," Lance said darkly. "Did you get Dr. Gorma?"

Keith nodded. "He didn't really have anything to add, Lance, merely emphasized that her best hope was finding help with some kind of mind healing, and that it would probably get worse before it got better. He said it was a good idea to stop and try to get her stabilized, but he kept emphasizing that finding her 'outside' help, as he put it, should be our main priority. He said the convulsions were not good, but not surprising, either. He said that unconsciousness, for a period, might follow, but that she should awaken, and then we could expect a period of confusion, perhaps even memory loss." Lance was actually biting on his knuckles, which were white from his clenched fists, as Keith related Dr. Gorma's instructions. "He said it might help to talk to her, maybe hold her, like we did in Med Center." Lance nodded.

"All right, Lance. I've kind of half-ass thrown this camp together; it's not at all what I'd normally leave you with, but I've got to get back out there in Black and see if I can't find some people, find some help. I've still got enough daylight left that I ought to be able to find this city, or settlement, or whatever is left of it, and then we'll hopefully have more information, at least enough to decide whether to move on or not. In the meantime, I've left weapons, and of course, we both have our comm. units. Keep it with you at all times. I hate to split up like this, but," and they both looked back at the shaking, trembling princess, "I don't see that at this point we have a choice. If I can't locate this city, or whatever it's supposed to be, before dark, I'll call you on the comm. unit, and you can expect me back around dark. I'm not comfortable leaving you out here overnight, or splitting up our Lions, for that matter."

Lance nodded at him. He knew Keith would do his damndest to find help for Allura, and be back by her side as soon as he could. That's exactly how he felt himself. "I'll do my best, Keith," he murmured, upset, but alert. "I'll call you if anything changes. And of course, I can get try to get through to the castle and Dr. Gorma if need be."

"Right," Keith sad, twin urges warring within him right at that moment. He hated to leave her, to leave the both of them, but he knew Lance would take care of her, and he knew that he had the best and fastest chance, in Black Lion, of finding people, or a settlement, or something that might offer help… Allura started babbling then, about being cold and wanting her mother and about how her head felt hollowed out… the two of them looked at each other, grim. "Ok, I'm gone. Take care of her, Lance."

"I always will, brother mine," Lance said back, catching Keith up, much to his surprise, in a side-armed hug. "Don't get lost out there!" Lance joked, turning back to the princess. "I'll call you if we need something."

Keith only nodded before heading to his Lion, determination marking his face and every step he took that brought him farther from his best friend and the woman he loved and had sworn to protect.

VVVVV

The sun had set already, a little over a half hour before. _Don't worry yet, McClain_, he told himself firmly. _Keith just meant sometime around when the sun went down…_ he refused to let himself panic yet. But as the sun had gone down, so had the temperature. He looked at the shaking, moaning princess now wrapped in several layers of sleeping bags. They were good ones, too; they had temperature controls on the sides of them that he had adjusted to make sure she was toasty warm, but not so hot that it would raise her body temperature high enough to increase her fever, thereby creating the vicious cycle all over again. But nothing seemed to help. He perched nervously on the side of her cot, petting her hair, brushing it back from where it lay across her forehead in sweat-soaked strands. He'd dampened a cloth with his canteen and was gently wiping her face and neck with it. He worried that she was still barely conscious; Dr. Gorma had said to expect her to wake up, but be groggy and confused.

"Ok, Allura," he said. "The doctor said it might help to…talk to you… and maybe to hold you? If things don't get better…"

So he launched into a long tale about his childhood, not the real one, the one he'd seen in the Robeasts's face, and the one he still had nightmares about, but the one that happened after, after he left home for good, or got disinherited for good, however you looked at it, and found himself living with an impoverished family in the rural Midwest, who'd agreed to take him due to the large bribe his father had no doubt paid them to take Lance off his hands… But he had come to love that time. They were as wild and crazy as he had always longed to be, had tried to be since he had first started running away from home when he was, what, ten? That was the family he claimed when he joined the Garrison, that was the family he mentioned if he ever had to talk about his past, if some situation came up when he had to bring up family… but when he started to tell Allura the same old background, the one he told everybody else, he could see she wasn't completely awake, and something inside himself twisted, and he began to tell her the other things, the ones he had buried, about his powerful, abusive father and his frail drunk mother and his little sister that he still missed and thought about … but it felt so good to let it off his chest, here, in this tent in the wilds of Arus to the woman he loved who wouldn't remember it anyway….so he rubbed her back, underneath the sleeping bags, which seemed to calm her a little, and started to talk about the Lake where he had grown up, the real one, and about learning to swim with his mother and sister… and it seemed to calm her a bit.

But the shaking increased, and she would periodically try to rise from where she was lying, and would say something like "sick" or "dizzy" or "help," and he would know to grab a basin and help her to lean over it, rubbing her back while holding her hair, assuring her it was ok, really, and he wasn't sure if she even knew who he was or where they were…

And finally, after over an hour, he tried to reach Keith over the comm. unit, and got nothing but static. She was shaking and talking out loud to her dead mother. Terrified, Lance tried to call Dr. Gorma but got no reply from the castle either. After a couple of hours of talking alternately to Allura and trying to get Keith or the castle, he threw the comm. unit down in disgust and turned his attention to the shaking, trembling young woman who had begun to cry, demanding, in a soft, childlike voice, to know where she was and why her head hurt so badly, why it felt burned and swollen. He kept explaining it to her, but she seemed to forget almost immediately, and then he'd go through it again for her, and she would cry about being cold and her head hurting. He had long ago extinguished any lights but the dimmest he could stand to use the comm. unit. _Dammit Keith!_ He thought, frustrated and even scared. _Where the hell are you?_ And when the temperature dropped to the point that even he was shaking, he realized the winds had started to rise and were howling outside their little shelter. He thought briefly about using Red Lion as a shelter, but there wasn't room in there for the both of them, and Allura had been so uncomfortable in there before.

'Lance, please help," she cried out in a lucid moment.

"What can I do?" he asked, wanting to cry too.

"I keep seeing things… behind my eyes… please… just hold me…I'm so cold… that's what Keith did, that time, on Doom…please, just hold me…"

Shaking, now, and not solely because of the cold, he said, "All right, Allura, all right. I'll hold you. I'll keep you warm." He dragged another cot over to hers and spread out the sleeping bags over them, crawling under them with her and pulling her to him. She was still shivering.

_Christ, _he thought. He had the temp stats turned up, but she was still cold; to him, it felt like an oven under there. "Still cold?" he asked, incredulous.

She only cried, rocking herself and shaking. "Lance," she cried, "make it stop!"

He no longer even asked what she wanted him to stop. There was so much…He was soaked in sweat, and so was she… it couldn't be helping…_God, Keith, please don't kill me…_

"Ok, Princess. I'm sorry. We're both soaking wet under here, and that's not helping things. I know you still feel cold, so I'm going to try to help us. The best way to share body heat is skin to skin…" he trailed off, almost hoping for some kind of objection, but he got none, just more of her shivering. He sighed heavily, hands shaking almost uncontrollably as he reached for the zipper to her uniform. He fumbled with it, pulling it down. _Damn you, Keith; this is all your fault,_ he thought, nameless but strong emotions flashing through him, deep concern over his commander's disappearance not the least among them. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he told her, almost begging her too. "This is going to make you colder for a minute, but then it should warm up…"

"Just want… to stop shaking…" she chattered.

_Deep breathe_, _McClain_. "Ok, then," he said, trying to make his voice as reassuring and steady as he could. He pulled the zipper all the way down her back, slipping her sweat-soaked uniform off her, closing his eyes as he did so, all the while feeling like he was committing some kind of crime. Her undergarments were sweat- soaked, as well, but there was no way he was going there….

He stopped himself. Steady, McClain. "Skin to skin, for warmth," he said out loud, not sure if he was reassuring himself, or her, or both… and then, in one fluid movement, before he could lose his nerve, he slipped out of his own uniform and slipped into the sleeping bags with her, glad his boxers didn't have some ridiculous cartoon characters on them. Nope. Safe, plaid, manly flannel. _Damn you, Keith Kogane_, he thought. _It's all good, Lance_, he tried to reassure himself as the Princess of Arus curled herself around him. "Warm," she murmured, but he held himself stiff as a board, trying to ignore her as she clutched him, still trembling. "Hold me. Need warm," she murmured again.

He sighed. "Turn on your side, Allura," he whispered hoarsely. "I'll be able to hold you better that way," he added.

"Tell me more stories," she whispered, as she complied. "Your voice… it's safe… the colors in my head are hot and have sharp teeth… your stories chase them away…" And as she leaned over the side of the cot, dry-heaving, he held back her hair and rubbed her bare back in small circles, his voice still hoarse as he began to tell her the true stories, some of them painful, some of them sad, some of them funny, and a very, very bare handful of them happy, about his childhood growing up as the only son and heir of a small but beautiful estate in the Highlands of Scotland, that also just happened to be the biggest private corporate manufacturer of deep space fighters and other military weaponry and machinery…things he had never told a living soul, except her, and with any luck she would remember none of it in the morning, as she shook against him, nearly skin-to-skin, as the wild desert winds of Arus howled around them and his Commander remained missing.

VVVVV

Something was tickling his face. He swatted at it, annoyed. His alarm hadn't gone off, so there was no way he was late, yet, for Lion practice…

The tickling continued, and he swatted more forcefully. _Most likely Hunk_, he thought. Keith would have been up and about already, and tickling a sleeping man who was about to punch you in the face for doing it just wasn't Pidge's style…

After one more soft tickle across the side of his cheek, he exploded, "Damn you Hunk, you are so…" he started to sit up, ready to swing, and found himself face to face with a wide-eyed Allura, who was leaning right over his face, looking at him curiously. Her blonde hair hung over him like long strands of pale grass, framing both their faces with light and gold. She was pale and shaking, and she was covered with a light sheen of sweat, but it was better than it had been, and she squinted at him as if the light still hurt her eyes. "Oh," he said, completely deflated, falling backward onto the cot in surprise. "I'm…I'm sorry, Princess. I forgot…"

She continued to stare at him, wide-eyed. He stared back. For several long moments, neither of them moved.

"Lance," she said, very slowly, as if testing her words right as they came off her tongue. "Where are our… uh…where are our clothes?"

Wordlessly, he pointed down. Their uniforms lay right where he had dropped them the night before, in a heap on his side of the cot. He found himself frozen, afraid to move or speak, expecting a million different responses…

But he did not expect this calm curiosity from her. She did not seem the least bit alarmed, almost as if she…did she actually _trust_ him? He froze again, finding it hard to breathe, let alone talk.

Which was good, because the next thing she did was to moan and clutch her stomach. "Sick," she managed to get out before he pushed her gently to her side of the cot, holding back her hair while she retched. "I am so sick of doing that," she said, rolling back onto the cot when she was through.

He found his voice enough to sympathize. "Believe me, Princess, I know what you mean. I've had the occasional normal hangover, but your magical ones make mine seem like a gentle sneeze or something."

She had crossed her arms over her eyes against the light. "Allura. Please. We just woke up together. Call me Allura."

He blushed, actually blushed, a deep crimson red. "But Princ…I mean, Allura…nothing happened, nothing at all…you were just so fevered and cold, and soaking wet…and I was just using my…our…body heat…"

She had not removed her arms from her eyes.

"Are you ok, Allura?' he asked, concerned. "How do you feel?"

"I feel weak, and horrible, and I need a bath," she said. "Is Keith ok?"

Lance shook his head, his chest tight. "I don't know," he admitted. "He left to try to find the settlement…you were having convulsions… he was supposed to be back before dark, and he's not answering his comm. unit…."

She smiled gently and rolled over on her side, facing him. He saw that she had tears in her eyes. "I can't hear him, in my head. It's all hollow and ugly up there… burned out, I guess you'd call it… but I don't feel him in pain, or fear…not here," and she gently, soft as a butterfly's wing, placed the palm of her hand on his bare chest, over his heart. "Do you?" she asked, calmly, seriously.

He shook his head, mutely, no. It was true. He did not feel Keith, his best friend and brother, in pain or distress, deep in his heart. At her touch, completely against his will, his heart started racing. She felt it, and smiled.

"Nothing happened!" he blurted out in sheer panic, finding himself pinned immobile by nothing stronger than her soft touch on his heart.

"I know that, Lance. I was sick, and cold, and you kept me warm. I believe you. I trust you." Her tears gathered, threatening to overflow. "But I heard you, what you called me, when you carried me from Blue Lion, after that last Robeast attack. Only one other person has ever called me that." The tears did fall then. They did not seem to be tears of grief. "And he's not here, and you are," she said, her hand still over his heart.

Lance thought he felt his heart explode. He had thought about this moment, if he was honest with himself, but never did he imagine the sheer…panic…he felt right now.

"He's…he's my best friend…he's the brother I never had… and I am so great at screwing things up…been doing it all my life…and I've never had this before…this sense of unconditional love and belonging…Allura, I don't deserve it… don't deserve any of this…you don't know me, you don't know who I am, what I've done…I don't deserve him, to be my friend, to stand by me…and I certainly don't deserve someone…" he was choking even as tears gathered in his own eyes. "I don't deserve someone like you…you're so good, and you have the most beautiful soul…you belong with him…he's good, he doesn't disappoint people, or let them down…he'll be wonderful to you…I'm just a disappointment…"

"Shut up, Lance McClain," she said, pale and trembling and sweaty and sick and still incredibly, incredibly, beautiful. "I know who you are. I know what your life has been like. I remember everything you told me last night. And I still trust you. So does he, wherever he is, he told me so. But before we go find him, I need to know just one thing."

She leaned in very, very close. _She smells like flowers, even still_, he had time to think, before she whispered, against his lips, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too damn much?"

It was so unexpected, and so true, that he laughed. She was so close, whispering over his lips, "I need to know…I need us _all_ to know…that none of this is anyone's fault. It just _is_…" She leaned in close to kiss him, her long blonde hair a curtain between them and the rest of the world, and he felt the years of guilt, of pain and self-punishment, drop away, and he could kiss her back, then, passion filling that place in his heart that had only held anger before, the two of them safe in the sunshine of her long, bright hair.


	21. Chapter 21: The Gathering

Author's note: Many thanks to my new friend Sultan who has helped me re-write chapter 20 into a decidedly "M" rating. He suggested I wait to post it with a rewrite of Chapter 18, or one like it, so that Keith gets equal time (at least). And thanks to everyone else who has been so encouraging and urging me to get the dang thing posted already! You know who you are…

Playlist: Some Cowboy Junkies and some Townes Van Zandt covers.

And, of course, all standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Twenty-One:

The Gathering

Keith felt his heart sink as he looked at the ruins of the city as Black Lion approached it. Framed by the setting sun, he could see the twisted spires of what had once been towers, and the burned-out husks of long, low buildings spread out amongst smaller, crumbling dwellings. The cracked surface of what had once, most likely, been a major road of some kind snaked its way through the ruins. The wasted city must have been magnificent, nestled against the side of the mountain range. The setting sun cast an eerie red light across the place, and he could see why it might once have been an appropriate capital for people identifying with the element of fire. In the setting sun, it almost appeared to be made of flames, as the sun flared brightly against some of the standing structures, but faded as it encountered the empty shadows. _Great_, he thought. _This place looks even more desolate than the castle did when we first came here_…

Heart heavy within his chest, he thought of Allura, shaking and sick, needing help, and he prepared to descend in Black Lion anyway. _Just a quick look around,_ he told himself,_ just to make sure, and then I'll head back to Lance and Allura. We can start out tomorrow for the Water tribes…_ He set Black Lion down on the outskirts of the ruined city, between two crumbling buildings that offered some cover, but were still far enough away from each other to make it less likely he might encounter any "surprises" in the gathering shadows. He checked his weapons, assuring himself they were fully charged and attached to his belt, then absently ran his fingers across the sword. The Sword of Altaire. He shook his head, sure he still didn't grasp the enormity of what it meant to be carrying it, but strangely, he had begun to feel quite…attached…to it, to the point that he felt as if was missing some vital article of clothing without it. At any rate, Allura and Koran both had assured him repeatedly that the sword was an essential part of securing aid from any of the tribes.

As he exited his Lion, he looked carefully around at the ruined remains of the last great city of the Fire tribes. He walked cautiously through the outskirts of the city, stepping carefully over the rubble of crumbling buildings scattered across the cracked road. He saw nothing but shadows as he walked through the city, which deepened as the sun set even more. He felt the familiar anger rise within him as he thought about the destruction Planet Doom had visited on Allura's planet. _So much waste_, he thought, reaching for his comm. unit to check in with Lance to let him know he would be back at camp within twenty minutes, and to let him know the bad news about the city of the Fire tribes. He was anxious about Allura, and wanted to know if she had gotten any worse since he'd left them. He also hated to leave the two of them alone and exposed like that. Not that he doubted Lance's abilities to protect Allura, but, as he had told his friend before departure, he really had half-ass set things up. He hadn't even set up an adequate security perimeter, or, at the very least, alarms. _Not smart_, he berated himself, and pulled his comm. unit free, reaching for the switch…

…and felt a long, cool length of steel slide itself suddenly across his throat, the blunt side pressing back against his neck with just enough force to make speech extremely uncomfortable, if not impossible. A low, hissing voice, as if speaking through clenched teeth, whispered to him from behind. "If you move so much as to twitch one little finger, Outworlder, I will give your throat a new smile." Keith froze, muscles tense, even holding his breath, as the long knife against his throat increased its pressure. "Now," the voice continued, "You will remember my words as my comrades disarm you. Do. Not. Move." The speaker said again, to make sure Keith understood. He didn't dare to nod or speak his agreement in any way, merely stood motionless as he felt hands moving lightly and quickly across his body. He tried to count how many pairs of hands he felt, but they moved too lightly and swiftly for him to get an accurate count. He guessed at least three pairs of hands, which would mean at least four people, including the one holding the knife, but of course there might be more of them, standing in the shadows. He felt his blasters being removed from his belt, felt his own knife being slipped free of its sheath in his boot, felt hands move up and down his legs, back and arms, prying his comm. unit from his hand, removing even his watch. But when a pair of hands found his sword and started to remove it from his belt, he felt himself jerk slightly, almost entirely against his will.

"Perhaps you have forgotten, Outworlder," the voice holding the knife hissed behind him, increasing the pressure of the blunt side of the blade to choking intensity. "I said not to move." Keith froze again, his air cut off, as his vision started to gray around the edges.

"The sword," the voice said, but not to Keith. "It's important to him," the voice observed, dispassionately. "Find out why."

Keith might have tried to warn them if he hadn't been about to pass out from lack of oxygen. But since he was, he thought with some satisfaction that they were about to get what they deserved. He only hoped Lance and Allura would be all right, if he didn't make it back…

He felt, more than saw, the blaze of blue fire flame up behind him. He heard his sword drop to the ground as if it had been hurled, and seconds later, heard one of the pair of hands drop to the ground, cursing fiercely. _Damn straight_, he thought, as smugly as was possible with a long knife pressed to his throat while cutting off his air. The arm holding the knife seemed to tense and freeze before quickly releasing a bit of the pressure. It was still uncomfortable, and he was sure he was going to have one hell of a bruise across his throat, but at least he could breathe again.

"You are fortunate, Outworlder, that I remember the world-that-was before the Hell Beasts came to destroy our people. You are more fortunate than you know," the voice hissed. "Secure him," it said, the knife still there as his hands were pulled behind him and roped tightly together. A cloth was shoved roughly into his mouth before the knife finally released his throat. He had time to take one deep, unfettered breath of air through his nose before a hood descended over his head, and he was being pushed ahead quickly, stumbling across rocks and rubble he couldn't see.

He reached out with his mind to Lance and Allura, doubtful he could reach them, given the distance between them and Allura's condition, but he tried with all his might as he stumbled along, surrounded, now, by his mysterious captors. _Lance! Allura!_ He projected forcefully. _Lance! Allura! It's a trap_… but he felt nothing from them other than a searing, burning pain in his head as he reached out to them. _Allura,_ he realized grimly. She was their strongest link, their mental conduit, so to speak, and she was burning, inside her head, he could feel it. God, the pain she was in, the pain he had felt with that very brief brush against her mind…

One of his captors, on his right, he thought, hissed. "Saran," the voice said, urgently.

"Quiet," said the one who had been holding the knife, presumably Saran, who was still behind him.

"But _Saran_," the speaker said, a note of urgency creeping in. "He just used mind speech. He was trying to talk to some others… but he couldn't… one of them, at least, is burning out…"

_Oh shit,_ Keith thought to himself. He had just given them away. He felt his resolve strengthen. He was going to get out of this. He had to. They needed him.

There was a long silence. The hands pushing him along stopped him suddenly. "You must block him, Kiari. We cannot take the chance. I am sorry." The hood came off his head in one fluid motion, and he found himself staring into a pair of deep green eyes framed by dark red hair. She couldn't have been much older than Allura, and she was swathed from head to toe in sand colored robes, a long scarf of the same color hanging loosely across her neck, as if it had been hastily removed from her face. His eyes darted quickly around him, taking in the presence of at least four others, clad in similarly-colored, tight-fitting clothing, carrying rifles.

"As you will," she replied absently, answering the one called Saran. She closed her eyes for one long moment before she placed her hands on his forehead. He could have sworn he heard the faintest whisper in his head as she did so, a tiny voice that told him, _Have faith, sword-bearer; all is not as it appears… _Her touch was gentle, her hands cool, until he felt a sudden pressure inside his head, building and spreading, more uncomfortable than unpleasant, until his entire head felt…cocooned, as if his head was suddenly stuffed with cotton. The one called Kiari removed her hands and stepped back from him, studying him critically for one long moment, before she spoke. "That is the best I can do," she said, her head tilted to one side. "It should hold until we get to…to where we are going." She swayed, then, and sat down heavily on the ground. "I'm sorry, Saran. That was harder than I thought it would be."

"Can you make it?" Saran asked. He sounded concerned, Keith thought with surprise. His military mind made a note of this, that she was important to the leader…

One of his captors moved swiftly to her side, helping her up, supporting her with one arm while holding a rifle in the other hand. The hood came back down over his head and he was once more pushed roughly along. "We can afford no more delays," the one called Saran growled, increasing the pace as Keith stumbled along in front of him.

VVVVV

He lost track of time as he was pushed along in the center of the group. He could tell the girl who had touched him was still leaning against one of the others for support; he heard two sets of footsteps to his right, where she had been standing. He had tried to speak to Lance and Allura one more time after she had "blocked" him, as Saran had called it, but he accomplished nothing whatsoever. It was as if she had blinded his mind just like the hood across his head had blocked his vision. _They have a kind of magic_, he remembered Koran telling Allura, _although it may not be the kind you'd prefer…_

Eventually the ground grew smoother, and he could tell they were walking slowly upward in some kind of tunnel. There was no talking among them, and they were forced to walk single file in some places, so narrow were the tunnels. The girl had recovered, then, he thought, at least enough to walk unaided. He was glad, because her eyes had been kind, her touch gentle, and he was betting she could have been rougher and crueler, like the rest of them, had she wished to be. He was hopeful, too, that perhaps, since she knew something of mind-magic, enough, at least, to know that Allura was in pain, that she might be able to help them, if he had indeed found the Fire tribe, and could convince them to help her. His mind held on to that thought as they stumbled along. They really were quite impressive soldiers. They had caught him, although he was being less than careful, and had shown a ruthless efficiency since taking him…_too bad I'm the enemy right now; imagine having a half dozen or so of these people around the castle as guards, on our side_…

And suddenly, he felt the closeness of the tunnel open up around him as he was forced to his knees. The hood was once again lifted off his head, although he remained bound and gagged, and he found himself kneeling in front of a group of people standing together in a loose group in the center of a cavern that had been furnished as if it were a fine room in a castle. Low couches and overstuffed cushions hugged the walls of the room, while thick carpets were scattered across the ground. Flickering torches were permanently fixed into the cavern walls. In the very center of the room stood a low table with what looked like a map spread out on it, rough stones holding it down at its corners. Low cushions were scattered about the table instead of chairs. The whole gathering had the air of something important that had been interrupted. His suspicions were only confirmed when one member of the diverse group, a woman who resembled the one named Kiari, with the same green eyes and dark red hair, but several years older, turned almost angrily to the man who had been pushing him along.

"This had better be important, Saran," she said, in a warning tone. The others in the room just looked on, with varying expressions of interest. Six others, Keith noted; two younger men, perhaps his age, or a little younger, one woman about their age, and three very old men. Keith realized, with a shock, that he was seeing the only men of fighting age on Arus since the Royal Guard had been shot, besides the Voltron Force. _Too bad they're such assholes,_ he thought. _With friends like these…_

Saran bowed. "My apologies for the sudden interruption, Clan Leaders," he said. "We caught this Outworlder sneaking through the outskirts of the city under most unusual circumstances, and thought it best to bring him here directly."

The older woman, who had first spoken, moved closer to Keith. She had a liquid grace about her that instantly put Keith on edge. It was more like she…prowled…towards him, like she was stalking prey. She looked him over closely, holding him under the chin and turning his face towards her. He fought himself to stop from recoiling at her touch. "Saran," she said, disapprovingly. "You held him under the knife."

"My Lady Morgana, you underestimate the situation. You know the circumstances of our arrival." Saran bowed to the others in the room. "He arrived in a Lion craft," he said, as the others in the room looked at him with shock. "And, he carried this," Saran said, removing the Sword of Altaire from the folds of his dark clothing and placing it on the low table.

For one frozen moment the room was deathly silent, and then it erupted into chaos, everyone talking at once, turning to one another, gesturing toward him, pointing at the sword, pointing at each other… everyone, that is, except the group that had brought him, and the Lady Morgana. She continued to hold his face, looking deeply into his eyes. "He is shielded," she said, surprised, continuing to look at him as if he were some bizarre new species of insect.

The girl who had swathed his mind in cotton earlier stepped forward and bowed. "We thought it best not to take chances," she said, placing herself directly to his side as she spoke, Keith noticed.

"She was acting under my request, of course," Saran said, stepping forward smoothly to place himself at Keith's other side. Keith noticed Saran said "request," not "orders."

The Lady called Morgana finally removed her hand from his face. Keith wanted to wipe his face off, but couldn't. "Excellent work, Kiari," she said, joining the others in the center of the room. "I don't think I could have done it better myself," she said, absently trailing her fingers across the hilt of Keith's sword. "Was he alone?"

"Quite alone," Saran said, still standing by Keith's side.

"And the Lion craft?" asked one of the younger men, eagerly.

"It remains on the outskirts of the city," his captor replied.

"Did you examine it?" the younger woman asked, just as eagerly.

"I sent two men. They could not gain access."

"And the color?" Morgana asked. The room was expectantly silent, as Saran appeared to hesitate.

"Black," he said finally, almost reluctantly.

"And the sword?" she asked, touching it lightly again.

"It is authentic. It burned Kieran when he tried to use it."

She smiled widely, and Keith was reminded suddenly of a snake. He did _not_ like this woman. He tensed as she approached him again. He looked critically at his sword on the table. _Two paces_, he judged. "Well, we must let him up, and greet him properly, and explain," she told Saran, even as she ran her hand down his shoulder and arms, a bit too…intimately… for Keith's liking, attempting to help him rise. Saran looked uncertainly at the girl to Keith's left side, who nodded very slightly before moving away. "You must forgive us. We have survived this long only through our caution," Morgana said, as he felt Saran bending to untie his hands. He tensed, waiting until he felt his bonds loosening, and then looked up into the smiling face of the woman he had taken an almost instant dislike to. She had her hand on his arm, stroking it lightly, as if she was helping him rise, when he shoved her to the side forcefully with his shoulder, his hands not yet completely free, and launched himself forward, rolling the two paces between himself and his weapon, freeing his hands as he moved. Still on his knees, he grabbed his sword from where it lay on the table and was up in seconds with the blade extended, spitting the cloth out of his mouth. He held it with both hands, ready to swing, standing over the Lady Morgana, whom he had just shoved roughly to the floor. Saran and the group who had brought him stepped in front of Kiari in one smooth motion, hands on their rifles, which they had slung across their shoulders. No one else moved.

"Excuse me," he said, finally, wishing Allura was here, or even Lance. She would know exactly how to be diplomatic to a group of people, who had just threatened, bound, injured, and kidnapped her, and Lance would at least have a snappy comeback. He had nothing. So he settled, as he so often did, for the plain, unadorned truth, his voice hoarse as he spoke through bruised vocal cords. "My name is Keith Kogane, Commander of the Voltron Force. I am here at the request of the Princess of Arus because we need your help."

The woman at his feet looked enraged, and Keith, although he would never purposefully hurt a woman if he had a choice, was almost glad it had been her in his way. The room was frozen, staring at him and the sword in his hand. _How in the hell am I supposed to get help from a room full of people by holding them at sword point? After they've already tied me up, hooded me, pushed me…_ he thought, frustrated. None of them had been exactly welcoming, or even friendly, and he was trying hard to fight the urge to engage them in direct combat immediately…

The young woman named Kiari swiftly removed the voluminous sand colored robes she had been wearing and dropped them to the floor. _Traveling clothes, for the desert_, Keith realized as she stepped through her ring of guards. Underneath them she was dressed as elegantly as anyone else in the room, perhaps more so, her shimmering dress the same color as her eyes, strands of gold woven through her long red hair. Saran placed a restraining hand on her shoulder, trying to pull her back behind him, but she moved smoothly out of his grip, moving slowly until she was just slightly beyond easy striking distance of his sword. Her guards, for that was what they must be, Keith realized suddenly, shifted nervously behind her, but she stilled them with a gesture.

"Commander Keith Kogane," she said, looking him directly in the eye as she slowly rolled the sleeves of her gown up to her elbows, holding her bare arms out to him palm up, "you can see that I am not armed." She held his gaze while she added, "and my guards will lay their weapons down now," pausing until she heard them unstrapping their rifles behind her. "My name is Kiari, of the Red Dawn Clan of the Fire Tribe of Arus. I was once a playmate of the Princess Allura, long ago before these attacks laid waste to our planet." She smiled at him, her eyes still locked on his, her arms still extended. "I must beg your forgiveness for our harsh treatment of you. I will only ask you to consider whether you would have behaved any differently, had you been guarding your Princess as she traveled by night through dangerous country with only five guards. For that is what I am to my own people, and they are as fiercely protective as I know you must be." She did not look away from him as he continued to grip his sword, unsure of the situation, still. "My fellow Clan Leaders will sit down now, _as civilized people should_, and I would be honored if you would do me the great favor of sitting by my side at our council table."

"How do you know Allura?" he asked, still unwilling to trust her, to trust any of them, but desperately needing their help. _ How can I let people this hostile anywhere near Allura? _He thought, torn. _Oh, right. Because you have very little choice?_

Kiari smiled encouragingly. "I played with her when we were girls, and our fathers met at the Castle of Lions to negotiate mineral rights and representation on the Grand Council." She narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to tell him something important. "I felt a great burning, earlier, as I shielded your mind," she said. "A pain as great as that would indicate immediate, perhaps dire, need; I was not raised to leave a friend in need," she said, growing frustrated as she saw he still didn't trust her. "And I would dearly love to ask Allura how her pet mouse, Cheddar, liked the pepper cheese I brought him the last time I visited her, so long ago."

The tiny detail was enough. He lowered the blade and noticed, absently, that the Lady Morgana had been crouched there the entire time, watching the entire exchange. "I do not have time to sit at your council table, although I am grateful for the offer." He addressed himself directly to Kiari. "Arus's need is dire, and I am here to call on the aid your people promised long ago, on this very sword, by the ancient accords."

Morgana stood, towering over the girl in front of him. Saran inched closer to his charge, Keith noticed. "What aid do you dare demand, Outworlder?" she hissed.

"All of it," Keith said simply.

Kiari smiled into her hand, her eyes dancing with merriment.

"All of it?" Morgana repeated, outraged.

"Yes, all of it. Immediate help for the Princess, in the form of healing and training. After that, personnel, arms, any military resources, any resources for building, farming, reconstruction, any people of fighting age, the deposit of trillium you're sitting on…"

"But surely you know, Outworlder…" the woman hissed.

"Keith," he corrected. "My name is Keith, and Arus is now my home as much as it is yours," he said.

"Very well, then, _Keith_," she spat. "Surely you know that the ancient accords allow us, any of us, to invoke the right of challenge."

"But who would deny our planet the aid it needs?" Kiari whirled on the older woman, furious. He noticed the younger members of the council nodding in agreement.

"We have survived this long because we have looked out for our own, first and foremost," Morgana hissed.

"We have survived this long by hiding like the desert rat, living in isolated pockets, and by scattering to the winds at the first sign of trouble," she shot back, drawing herself up as tall as she could. "If we are going to fight the Hell Beasts that haunt us still, we _must_ unite…"

"I invoke the right of challenge, as head of this council," Morgana said smoothly, ignoring the younger woman's outburst. "He must prove he is the rightful sword-bearer. The accords give us the right. He will stay and endure the challenge or we will give no aid at all."

"But the Princess needs help _now_," Keith said, his voice growing low and dangerous.

"Then stay here and meet your rightful challenge, and we will send what aid is reasonable. Kiari can run along and play with her friend. Otherwise, we declare the accords annulled."

Keith felt completely out of his element. Koran had warned him to expect some kind of challenge. But that meant staying here, and trusting that help would reach her…

"You do not control all of us, Morgana," Kiari hissed right back at her. "We are independent Clans, still, and we may give what aid we, as individuals, have," she said. Turning to Keith, she placed her hand on his arm. "She has the right to challenge you for what you seek, but I swear that my Clan will ride at once to the Princess's aid. I will go now, and speak to like-minded others," she said, with a look at the younger members of the council. "You must tell Saran where to go. We will leave within the hour. And, Commander Keith Kogane," she drew him down to her, close enough to whisper in his ear. "I blocked your mind-speech so Morgana could not find your friends herself. She is a very dangerous woman. I will find them, and bring them back with me. I do not trust her." She stepped back from him with a bright smile, and added, loudly, "I'll be sure to tell Allura hello for you," and she whirled away from him, stepping quickly to the far end of the council table, whispering to the three younger members of the council.

Saran stepped up to him next. "Morgana will try to get inside your head, Commander. She has powerful mind-magic. It is good that my lady blocked you when she did. It should offer some protection. Now, please tell me where I can find these friends of yours?"

VVVVV

Within twenty minutes, the council room was devoid of anyone except himself, the Lady Morgana, and the three elder council members. The three younger Clan Leaders had gone almost as quickly as had the young Kiari, and he already felt a little lighter at the thought of some kind of help on the way to Allura and Lance. He tried not to think about the coming ordeal; the woman to whom he had taken such an instant and deep dislike had grasped his upper arm and led him to this chamber where a couple of low couches hugged the wall and there was only once source of light in the entire room: a low green fire that cast dim light. He thought about what had just happened so quickly in the council room; the governing powers of the Fire Tribe had just split almost directly down the middle, the younger ones rushing off to help the Princess and work towards a unified Arus, while the older ones clung to their shelters and the ways that had become familiar to them. He sighed. A new Arus was taking shape, and they just couldn't see or accept it. He felt uncomfortably caught in the middle.

"Are you comfortable?" asked Morgana, behind him.

"Yes, thank you," he said flatly, trying to manage his irritation. He was sitting in front of the strange green fire with his sword in his hands, as she had instructed him. He sat straight on the edge of one of the couches, trying to ignore her presence in the room.

"This might take quite a while," she told him. "Are you sure you're comfortable?" she asked again, gliding toward him, sliding in next to him on the couch. He ignored her question.

"Very well," she sighed. "The High Council of the Fire Tribe of Arus has invoked the right to challenge you, Commander Keith Kogane. Should you… survive … this challenge, we swear to abide by any and all requests for aid from the Royal House of Altaire, represented by the Princess Allura. Should you fail, the ancient agreements become null and void. Any questions?"

He stiffened when she used the word "survive." "Is this a life-threatening challenge, then?" he asked, feeling once again completely out of his element.

She leaned back against the wall, sinking into the couch next to him. She held a goblet in her hands, and she was running her fingers absently around the rim. "Not life-threatening in the sense that you might actually _die_," she said, playing with the goblet. "But life-threatening in the sense that you might lose your life as you know it."

"Oh, thanks for clearing that up," he said, less sarcastically than he would have liked, thinking of Lance and missing his irreverent attitude. _They'll be safe, they'll get the help they need, and I just have to get through this._ "What exactly do I have to do?" he asked, thinking of the challenges and quests of Earth mythology, like fighting dragons, or finding magical objects.

Morgana laughed. "I'm afraid it's going to sound rather boring." She passed him the goblet, brushing his hand with hers. "All you have to do is drink this."

He sniffed it suspiciously. "What's in it?" he asked, thinking immediately of poison.

"No, it's not poisoned, Keith. Don't be so mundane." She took the goblet back from him and took a sip. "There. See? No poison. No, you just have to drink it, and your own mind creates the challenge. You claim that Arus is your home now, that you have left your past and the planet of your birth behind you. That is the challenge, Keith of Earth. To truly be the sword-bearer, you must be of this world more than any other." She gave him back the goblet. "If you are…successful, then you will awaken here, in this room, with all the resources your Princess and her planet needs from the Fire tribes, down to our last drop of blood. But if you choose… less than correctly, then you might not awaken at all, and your Princess will get nothing from us willingly."

"Are those the only rules?" he asked, still clutching his sword.

She looked down at the sword in his hands and laughed. "You may use any resources you have, Keith, but remember, this is a battle of the mind, and your friends, your weapons, cannot help you there." He did not like the way she was leaning in towards him, and he certainly didn't trust her, but he had promised to find help for Allura and her planet…for _his_ planet, now, and he would….

He drained the goblet dry. Nothing happened. "Is that it?" he asked.

Her laughter echoed off the walls of the room. "No, Commander Keith Kogane. Now you just have to watch the fire, and dream, and choose…"

He found himself growing sleepy, and as the green flames danced in front of his slowly closing eyelids, he found himself remembering back to the day they had found the Ark of Arus, and remembered Allura, her beautiful face streaked with tears, as her parents said goodbye to her. They had told her, "Choose with your heart." He had thought they meant himself and Lance, and maybe they did, but as his eyes closed, and he could no longer see the flames, he had one last thought, like a shooting star across his mind as he drifted, that maybe that advice hadn't been meant for Allura alone…

VVVVV

He could hear the annoying, constant beep of the machine right next to his ear. He had been hearing it for days, but as he had faded in and out of consciousness, people hovering around him, sticking him with needles, sticking him with tubes, he hadn't been able to make himself understood. He wanted to tell them to make the beeping stop, but for some reason, he had been unable to open his eyes, let alone his mouth. He tried to move his fingers, and couldn't; the effort exhausted him. So he let himself slide back into a restless sleep, where he had strange dreams about Beverly, his fiancée, dying in a plane crash, and about wide open spaces and blasted, ruined earth, giant robots and mechanical lions, and someone…with blue eyes? But Beverly had green eyes…

Today was different. Today, someone had heard him, had moved the machine so that it was no longer so close to his ear. Today, he felt the soft, gentle fingers of someone he knew… he just couldn't place who, right now… as they stroked his face, brushed his hair back off his forehead.

"It's just your heart monitor, sweetie," said the voice, full of concern. "It's what's been telling me you're in there, somewhere, these last few weeks," continued the worried voice, but he also heard love, and relief, as well.

"Heart…" he murmured.

"Yes, Keith, your heart monitor." And then the voice was crying, the hands shaking, as they moved over the side of his face, brushing away the tears that he knew weren't his. "Oh, baby, you're talking," she said, crying almost soundlessly, and, as usual, he only figured it out by the time her tears were literally soaking some part of his body. This time, they splashed onto his face, and she brushed at them with her fingertips, her long fingers firm but tender. He felt his mouth move up into a smile, and her crying got worse.

"I'll stop if you keep that up," he told her, as she leaned into his chest, crying into his hospital gown. He could feel it getting soaked. He found that he could move his hands, so he did, moving them to rest gently across her back, coming as close to holding her as his body would let him. "What happened?" he asked her, almost afraid of the answer. It had to have something to do with his head, with the crazy dreams he'd been having while he was sleeping, about lions, and robots, and about Beverly in a plane crash, and a woman, smiling, but a little sad, with wide blue eyes and blond hair…

"Oh, baby, I was so scared. I thought I had lost you," the voice sniffled into his hospital gown. "You had a crash," she whispered. "You don't remember?" she asked, sitting up.

"No," he admitted, opening his eyes, inch by slow, painful inch, for what felt like the first time in weeks. "I don't remember," he whispered, staring up into the face of the woman he loved, the woman he was going to marry, the woman who had agreed to be his, unconditionally, for the rest of their lives. Her huge green eyes were red from crying, but his heart did that same funny little leap that it still did every time he opened his eyes to her beautiful, green-eyed face.

"Beverly," he said, tasting her name on his tongue. "Beverly Hagel," he continued, as she smiled down at him. "Beverly Kogane."

She smiled and nodded, holding up the square-cut diamond engagement ring he had given her… when had he given it to her? Frowning a little, he looked at it. "When did I…"

"The dinner cruise, in the harbor," she said. He was afraid she was going to start crying again. He just didn't know how to deal with her crying. It was the worst thing in his world….

VVVVV

"Lance," Allura said softly, still burrowed into the sleeping bags, despite the rapidly warming temperature as the sun rose over the desert.

His back was to her as he rummaged in a duffel bag, looking for something to put on besides the sweaty Voltron uniform lying in a heap beside his cot. "Hmmm?" he answered absently, slipping on a pair of Garrison issue desert khakis and pulling out a matching t-shirt. He paused in his motions, looking at her over his shoulder. He slid the t-shirt on over his chest and perched on the edge of the cot, concerned. "Are you still cold?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted. She was still shaking, although not as badly as the night before, and she was covered with a light sheen of sweat. He reached out and felt her forehead. Still feverish. Damn.

"Believe me, it's not cold out here, Allura." He frowned. "Is it something else?" he asked, anxiously, remembering the way she had kissed him that morning. The way he had kissed her back. Part of him was still waiting for anger, or remorse, or some kind of freak out, but so far, she had done nothing but smile at him.

"I feel really horrible, still," she said, squinting at him as the light inside the tent climbed with the temperature. Even all squinty-eyed, he thought, she looked like an angel. A squinty-eyed, sweaty, dry heaving angel, he amended, but it was true. "And we need to look for Keith," she whispered, shaking. "I don't know what to do," she admitted, sighing softly as he brushed her sweaty hair back from her forehead. "I still don't feel any pain, or fear, or anything negative like that coming from him, but maybe I'm not the most reliable…" she doubled over, clutching her stomach, and Lance was at her side in an instant, rubbing her back and holding back her hair while she dry heaved. "Sorry," she said as she rolled back over onto her back, embarrassed.

Framing his blue-eyed gaze, his reddish brown hair was wild and sticking up everywhere as he smiled down at her crookedly. "Don't worry about it, Princess. It's karma," he said cryptically. She couldn't help but smile back. His cheerfulness was contagious. "Here's what we're going to do," he said. "I'm going to find the bag Nanny packed for you, so you can get dressed, and then… do you feel like eating?" She shook her head violently. That worried him; she had eaten nothing since the Robeast attack, and had difficulty keeping down fluids. He didn't let it show, though. "Ok, skipping breakfast, then. I'll keep trying to raise Keith, and the castle, and we'll go from there. Ok?"

She nodded at him solemnly. He sighed. "Allura, what's wrong? Do you feel bad about… this morning? Do you regret it?"

"No, Lance, I don't regret it, I'm really, really glad." she whispered. "I'm just…scared, is all. I know how pathetic I am right now, but please, will you hold me?"

"You're not pathetic, angel," he told her. "You're very brave. And kissing you is far from scary." He did it again, quickly, before he slid away from her. "But we really need to get you dressed and cleaned up. Trust me on this, angel, you'll feel much better. I'll be right back, ok?"

He stepped outside the tent, intending to trot over to Red Lion, grab her bag, and be back in two minutes, when he heard the unmistakable sound of metal on metal as a round clicked into the chamber of a rifle. He threw himself backwards into the tent, landing heavily and rolling onto his stomach as he grabbed frantically for the blasters he had attached to the belt of his discarded uniform. "Allura," he whispered fiercely, gripping a blaster in each hand, tossing one to her as he grabbed another one from her belt. "Get down, Allura, get down now." She clutched the sleeping bag around her and rolled off the cot onto her side, wordlessly crawling her way up to Lance's side.

"What?" she whispered, trembling, whether from fever or from fear, he didn't know.

"Someone's out there, armed," he whispered back. "At least one someone, maybe more." He wracked his brain for a way to get her to Red Lion, sick and trembling, and still wrapped in her sleeping bag. "Can you run?" he asked her.

"I can try," she replied. _Not good enough_, he thought, feeling her shake against him. She wasn't well enough to run to Red Lion, and he couldn't carry her and cover her at the same time, and he didn't want to leave her behind while he ran for Red Lion…

And then he heard a sound like thunder, so forceful that it literally shook the earth. As the sound came closer, he heard a voice call out, "Would the one called Lance please come out? We do not wish to disturb your Princess."

Lance and Allura looked at each other as the thundering sound grew louder. He pressed one of his blasters into her hand, kissing her swiftly on the forehead. "Lance, no!" she whispered, fiercely, but he was already moving. _If that noise is what I think it is, I don't really have a choice_, he thought.

"We were sent by your Commander Keith Kogane," the same voice shouted out, the thundering din unmistakable now.

Lance made for the door. "It's all right, Allura," he called back, and she nodded. He thought about how ridiculous she looked, still in her underwear, sitting up in a sleeping bag that was tangled around her, her hair a sweaty mess, clutching two blasters while she shook and sweated. _And she still looks like an angel. Damn._

Outside the tent, Lance looked out into what had been a deserted wasteland just a few minutes before. The desert was filling up with horses and riders as far as he could see. He shook his head in amazement. _When you send help, Keith, you really go all out_, he thought.

A small group of people stood several paces back from the tent, dressed in loose clothes that matched the desert. Several armed guards ringed a single figure that shouted to him over the rising thunder of the approaching horses. "We are three of the Clans of the Fire Tribes of Arus. We have come to give what aid we can, on behalf of your Commander Keith Kogane. More of us will be arriving soon." The speaker removed a sand-colored scarf and hood to reveal long red hair that whipped about her head in the rising wind. Her green eyes pleaded with his. "Please, I am here to help Allura. I knew her, before… before Zarkon. May I see her? You may tell her Kiari of the Red Dawn Clan is here."

Lance eyed the group of armed guards ringing the girl and felt his natural skepticism kick in. "No offense or anything, but how do I know you really know Allura?"

He thought he saw the girl laugh. "You may tell her that I am still very sorry Cheddar did not like the pepper cheese," she said, a sly look in her green eyes. _There's a story there,_ he thought, taking an instant liking to her as he holstered his weapon.

He stuck his head back in the tent. "Angel," he called softly, trying to allay the fear he saw in her face. She had moved back to the cot and was holding both blasters, shaking with fever while she gripped them. "It's ok, Keith really did send help. I mean, really. There is a young woman here who says she wants to help you. She said to tell you her name is Kiari… uh, Red something?" Allura looked confused, clutching her weapons tightly. "She said to tell you she is still very sorry that Cheddar didn't like the pepper cheese she brought him."

Allura's face relaxed. She sank back against the cot in relief, placing her weapons on the ground, but within easy reach. "Thank the goddess," she said, as Lance stepped back outside and allowed the red-haired girl into the tent. Her tall, sour-looking guard started to follow, but Lance blocked his way.

"Ladies only," he said, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the entrance.

"Yet you do not observe your own rule," the guard challenged.

"Damn straight," Lance shot back, meeting his glare.

The red-haired girl stuck her head back out of the tent almost immediately. "The Princess is in very dire condition. Saran, get my women." The man continued to glare at Lance. "Saran! Please! Get my attendants." The tall guard gave Lance once last glare and stalked off. Kiari looked at his retreating back, and then at Lance's protective, cross-armed stance in front of the tent. She grinned wickedly. "It is humorous to me to see that men are the same in many ways no matter what planet or culture they are from." Her eyes danced with merriment. "Do not worry, Lance McClain. My attendants are all women. Although I am sure she would not mind a visit from you…" she teased, and laughed as Lance, for once, had no idea what to say.


	22. Chapter 22: Keith's Choice

Author's note: First of all, thanks to all of you for being so patient, my patient, kind, honest, tough, wicked, funny, and completely wonderful reviewers, readers, and co-conspirators. I am sorry these chapters took so long to write. They were difficult for me, as I think you will see. It's funny how endings are so much harder than the beginning or the middle. And although these chapters are not the end, I can finally see where the end lies and what it will be. All the characters suddenly demand your attention, telling you what they want to do before you bring their stories to an end, begging that you let them go on living forever, having adventures…

I'm making myself sad. And I probably sound schizophrenic.

And now it's courtesy warnings time again: **Warning: This chapter contains an adult situation, maybe even two, depending on your sensitivity level.** Again, I do not think it merits an "M" rating, as it does not contain graphic nudity, etc., (not even close, sorry Sultan and co.) but consider yourself warned. **And my other warning: This chapter contains a pairing surprise**. It is billed as K&A with competition. Emphasis, again, on competition. If you are a die-hard K&A person, this chapter might bother you, but have faith, gentle reader, because I am sticking to my K&A pairing, come hell or high water. I want them to have a love that has conquered all, can endure all, and has survived and flourished nonetheless. "Edgy" love, not fairy tale stuff, unless it's a dark fairy tale, like the Arthurian ones … but real, true love nonetheless.

Enough said. I'm making myself sad again. I'm going to go find some chocolate. (Wipes eyes.)

Playlist: Malcolm McLaren, "About Her," and the new Seal album, forget what it's called, but it's nothing but covers of soul and love songs, very sexy.

And all the standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Twenty-Two:

Keith's Choice

Keith lay on his side, propped up in the middle of their queen-sized bed, watching his fiancée as she tried to get dressed. The bustle and hum of New York City going about its daily business provided a familiar backdrop. He had seen her do it a million times since he had first moved in with her, sometimes several times a day, but for some reason, watching Beverly perform the familiar, maddening ritual today, his first day home back from the hospital, awakened some of the most powerful emotions he could remember feeling since his parent's death. He watched her as if he was making a movie of her with his mind, wanting to capture everything about her, about that exact moment, to freeze it in time so that one rainy gray day in the future, he could pull it out, and watch it, and remember her just as she was, standing quizzically in front of her ridiculously overstuffed closet as if it was some kind of puzzle to be solved.

It usually annoyed him. It took him perhaps ten minutes to get dressed, and that included shower time. Keith had taken the smallest closet when he moved in, bringing with him only a few odds and ends, one medium-sized suitcase full of his clothing and a few personal items, and crates full of books. "Is that it?" she had asked, incredulously. "I took the afternoon off, you know, to help you move, and I'm not sure you've got more than two trips up the stairs here." Her words were light, but her eyes were deep as oceans; she knew the gift he was giving her, putting down roots where there had been none before, with her.

"I travel light," he answered, only half teasing.

She looked at him then, as if measuring him or trying to figure him out. Everything had meaning to her, everything was a puzzle to be solved or a book to be read, and he was no different, that first day he had moved in with her, the first woman he had ever truly loved, the first woman he wanted to wake up with every day for the rest of their lives, the woman he wanted to have babies with and watch over and protect from the dangerous, fickle world.

She looked like she was going to cry, when he said that. They were standing on the landing outside her second-floor apartment and her curly light brown hair was escaping in wayward tendrils from the bun she had twisted it into and secured with a pencil stuck through the middle. He suddenly felt terrified, standing outside her apartment, their apartment, with her about to cry and him about to move in with her and having no idea what to do with himself.

"You don't have to travel anymore, Keith," she said, her arms going up around his neck as she whispered into his ear. "You're home." When she took his suitcase from him he had wanted to protest; it seemed wrong to him, to have her carry things when he was there to do it for her. But she resisted him.

"Don't be silly," she said, putting it down across the threshold, off to the side of the narrow hallway.

Thresholds. Doorways.

"I can think of something else we can do with the rest of my afternoon off," she said, as her fingers slipped into his, pulling him into her, their, apartment, and into his new life. It had been a good afternoon, that first day of their new life together.

_Why do I feel like this? Why do I feel like I'm seeing her for the first and last time? Is it because of the accident?_ He wondered, shifting himself against the pillows propping him on his side, his chest aching from the broken and cracked rib he had gotten when the plane he piloted for Galaxy Garrison's top brass in New York had malfunctioned and crashed and sent him to the hospital. She had practically buried him in pillows in an effort to make him comfortable, to cushion his injuries. It was a secret thing he disliked about their life; she covered the bed in pillows of all kinds and mountains of blankets of varied textures and hues and thicknesses. Being in the bed was like swimming, and sometimes, he would reach out to hold her in the middle of the night, and would come up with only pillows, or handfuls of fabric. But she loved them, so he endured them with a smile, because he loved her, and could deny her nothing.

Today, his first day back, he watched her, fresh from the shower, wrapped in one of those fuzzy towels that was the size of the blankets that she loved so much, her light brown hair darkened by its wetness. Tiny beads of water dripped down her back into the towel. Waves of steamy floral scent wafted out of the tiny bathroom, the smell of her shampoo and body wash. Another secret: he hated body wash, scented or not, and tried to keep an honest bar of soap around, but it kept falling onto the shower floor and melting mysteriously. He lived in terror of the day he would show up at Garrison headquarters in New York, completely out of soap, and have to endure unending teasing because he smelled like flowers. But he loved her, the way she smelled, and the way the wet air of her showering cloaked their apartment for many long minutes after she exited.

"I have nothing to wear," she moaned predictably, staring at literally hundreds of articles of clothing smothering together in her closet. It was so tightly packed that the door to it would not shut. He knew. He frequently tried.

"What about this?" she asked him, turning to him with a light green sundress in her hands. It had patterns of darker green leaves across it that almost matched her eyes. It looked fine to him.

Another secret: sometimes the very same question had multiple correct answers, and the exact same answer one day would be dead wrong on the next. This was one of those dangerous questions. Maybe she would take it easy on him today, seeing as how he had just come out of a coma and all. But maybe not. He watched her, anxiously choosing clothing that only he would see, and then going through the entire thing all over again if they decided to leave the apartment, or have someone over, or their plans changed in some other way. His heart swelled, again, that peculiar wave of bittersweet love for her knocking him almost senseless. _Maybe it's a lingering head injury or something,_ he thought, amazed at the depth of emotion she aroused in him.

He decided to be honest. "The green leaves are almost the exact same color as your eyes. I think it would look beautiful on you, because I think you are beautiful. Unless you're planning to leave me today, which I hope you're not, watching you in it will make me think of your eyes, and how much I love them."

She stood completely still, holding the dress and staring at him, her rose-colored lips slightly open as she worked over what he had said. He stared back anxiously. _Oh hell and damnation, that was the wrong answer…_

She dropped the dress to the floor, hanger and all. Her eyes looked suspiciously wet. "I don't think I'll get dressed right now, after all," she all but whispered, sliding her way into the bed with him through the sea of pillows, still wearing her towel. She drew up next to him, eyeing the bandages wrapped around his chest, hand, and head. He was bare-chested among the pillows, and was still wearing the old Academy sweatpants he'd left the hospital in. She looked up at him, wet and towel-clad, her green eyes luminous. "I thought I'd lost you, Keith," she said, teary-eyed. _God don't cry Beverly, please God, don't let her cry, _he prayed fervently_._ "I want to hold you. I need to hold you, but I don't know how. You're all…" her face crumpled as she started crying silently. "You're all _broken_," she sobbed, her hands roaming over his chest and arms, trying to find a way to hold him that wouldn't hurt him.

"Ssshh," he murmured, pulling her close, not caring that his ribcage screamed at him in protest. "Ssshh, Beverly, don't cry. I'm here. Baby, don't cry," he whispered, rocking her against his broken chest.

Her lips found his suddenly, as if she was starving for him, to feel him, to make sure he was real. Her hands slipped up around his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer, her kisses light as butterflies against his cut lip….

He felt an odd jerk around his heart suddenly, exactly like it was being pulled on by a cord, and the room around him wavered, and he was back in the hospital, except the perspective was different, he was sitting in a chair instead of laying in a bed….

"Keith?" Beverly said, concern plain in her voice and on her face. "Keith! Keith, are you all right?" Her green eyes stared into his brown ones. She had broken the kiss and was sitting up in bed. "What happened? Did I hurt you?"

"No," he said, shaking the fog from his brain. "I just…" he struggled for words. "For just a minute, I was…someplace else…a hospital, again…"

"The concussion," she said sadly, understanding replacing concern. "The doctor said to expect after effects." He nodded, relieved. It made sense. He liked things to make sense. For a moment, everything had seemed wrong, out of place…

Beverly pursed her lips, thinking. "I know," she said, the slow smile he loved replacing the look of concern. "The doctor said only mild, maybe moderate activity, at the most." Now her smile was decidedly wicked. "So maybe we'll wait on the _moderate_ activity. Save it for later. But not _too_ much later…"

He grinned back. His first. She had been his first. He knew he was different in that respect from most guys, but he was glad, now, for the very thing that had vaguely embarrassed him for so many years. His first, and his last…

"What should we do with ourselves, then?" he wondered aloud.

"You're going to have to put up with me babying you, I'm afraid," she teased him gently. "I'm going to smother you so thoroughly that you'll never dare even have so much as a hangnail, ever again," she promised.

"Ok, I guess I deserve to be smothered, since I so selfishly injured myself…"

She grabbed a pillow and pretended to throw it at him. "I know what. I'll read to you." She reached over to her side of the bed, to a slim volume of poems stacked on top of several other books. "We'll play a game. We'll call it 'Guess That Poem.' If you guess wrong…" she scrunched up her face, thinking up rules. "Hmm. The loser forfeits a kiss."

"Not much of a punishment," he said, noticing the way her towel was slipping…

"Exactly," she grinned, and began to read. "Had we but world enough, and time…"

VVVVV

Lance paced outside the tent. He had that same nervous feeling he got when he was in hospitals, except out here, in this wasteland of a desert that had once been a fertile plain, it was much, much worse, because there was nothing here he could do to distract himself or to take his mind off the situation. He had tried to raise the castle on his comm. unit repeatedly but still got nothing but static. Princess Allura had been inside the tent with the red-haired girl's attendants for what felt like forever to Lance, and the only news he had been able to get from anyone was that they were damn lucky that Allura had gotten help when she did. If the situation had gone on much longer, it was possible that the princess might have been permanently "burned out," which the red-haired girl herself patiently explained to him, meant that she would have had some degree of permanent brain damage.

Kiari had re-emerged from the tent about an hour after her scowling guard had returned with a group of six robe-swathed figures. She sat down so heavily beside the rock that it was almost a collapse. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head on them, looking almost as shaky and sick as Allura had in her better moments. Saran knelt beside her anxiously, watching the skies. After a few moments of struggling to get her breath back, Kiari looked up at Lance. "I managed to stop the burning," she told him. "It is a difficult thing to explain, the powers of the mind. But after I felt the degree to which she was burning still, after this length of time from the attack, it was decided that the best thing would be to block her. I cannot give her the healing she needs here. She must go to her own Element, to the Water Tribes, for that. But I did stop the burning, and we will get her cleaned up and stabilized as much as possible." Saran nodded beside her as if this made perfect sense. Seeing Lance's confused expression, Kiari sighed and continued. "I effectively cut off all her powers. She cannot use them, but she cannot be hurt through them any more either. It means she cannot hear you, or you her, nor can you speak with her, mind to mind. I did the same with your Commander Keith Kogane. He thought it felt like I was filling his head with cotton… a most apt expression, I think…"

"You did _what_ to Keith?" Lance asked, trying to keep his voice calm and level. "Why would you block him? He doesn't have any of that… mind stuff…the princess has." Lance realized that explained why neither he nor Allura had 'heard' him since he left. Which meant…they really had no idea what he was feeing or going through. They had assumed his silence meant he was ok, but maybe that wasn't so. So, casually as possible, he asked, "And by the way, where is he, exactly?"

Kiari shook her head, letting it rest on her knees again. It was Saran who replied. "When we captured him…."

"Captured? Keith?" Lance said with rising shock and panic.

"Peace, Outworlder. He has come to no harm. We did not know him for who he was at first. Would you be any less cautious with a stranger sneaking around your castle, with your princess traveling with you?" Lance looked at Kiari with renewed interest. Princess? Her?

She smiled up at him, as if reading his thoughts. _Perhaps she is_, he thought darkly. "Your commander tried to reach you, both of you, through mind-speech, and I felt your princess's mind on fire…" She continued to relate the story of the evening before, all the way up until she had convinced some of her fellow Clan Leaders to ride with her, and Lance did not relax one inch as she retold it.

"So Keith is undergoing some kind of challenge? With this…Council Leader you don't trust? Who also has mind magic?" Kiari nodded solemnly. "Why have all of you," and he gestured out towards the desert, filled with horses and riders, "Gathered here, then?"

"Because Morgana must be stopped," she said, standing, finally, with her eyes flashing fire. "She clings to the old ways and has far too much power over the council. She would set herself up as Queen if we would allow it. Your appearance here, with Voltron discovered once again, has been the sign we have been waiting for, that it is time to stop hiding and to unite to free our planet from Zarkon's evil grip. Voltron is here to protect us." She hugged her arms close to her chest. "We have all lost things to Zarkon. I am not so different from Allura in that regard." Eyes haunted, she swept her robes back, revealing her shimmering clothing underneath the desert camouflage. "My mother and I were both captured on the day Zarkon attacked the Castle of Lions. My family was visiting hers. He killed my father and brothers on the same day that he executed the King and Queen. My mother and I were captured as slaves." She turned slightly so that he could see her shoulder as she pulled her dress down. It bore the same mark his forearm did, except that hers looked years older. "They mark women bound for the harems here," she said quietly.

Lance felt kicked in the stomach. _How old must she have been?_ He wondered. She didn't look much older than Allura.

"I was twelve years old," she told him, face impassive. "I hid behind my mother for two days in the cargo hold of a Drule ship while Zarkon destroyed the planet. They kept adding more and more slaves. Saran snuck aboard and tried to get us both out, my mother and I, but in the end, he could only take one of us, and she begged that it be me." She turned to face him, eyes fierce. "I am gathering an army here, Red Lion pilot. Whether your commander succeeds or not, my fellow Clan Leaders and I are sick of waiting. We may not be able to give you all the resources of the Fire Tribes combined, but what we do have, we will give to Princess Allura to throw at Zarkon. I, at least, have pledged my life to her service. We are only waiting for your princess to be able to travel to return," she told him. Around them, attendants occasionally left the tent, only to return moments later carrying different items like boxes or bags or buckets.

Lance looked on with guarded interest as the sour-faced man who was never far from the girl told him, his arms crossed in front of him, "Do not worry. They are all women." He took in Lance's worried expression and, perhaps misinterpreting it, added, after a moment, "And most of them are old and ugly, as well."

Lance stared at him, not sure if he was being teased or if the man was serious. "Look, I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot a while ago, but I take the princess's well-being very seriously." Lance found that the hands he'd stuffed into his pockets were clenched into fists. "Much more so than my own," he said, with an air of surprise, because as he said it out loud, he realized it was true.

"I understand," said his companion. "I, also, take my duties as guard very seriously."

"Only because my Clan would cut off Saran's head if he did not," Kiari added, popping up almost directly behind Lance without making a sound, an annoying trick she seemed to have perfected.

"Yes, that is it exactly," Saran agreed, impassively. "If it were not for her Clan's fearsome directive, I would leave this impudent baggage under the nearest rock and head off for a life of leisure."

Kiari grinned at him. "Saran would not know what leisure was if it was wearing a pretty dress and tried to dance with him," she told Lance, conspiratorially, as if the scowling object of their conversation wasn't standing right there.

He couldn't help but smile at the mercurial people in front of him, changing from deadly serious to joking and carefree in a heartbeat. Fire, he knew, was his element, and in a way, he felt like he fit right in. "So, um, Kiari?" he asked, using her name for the first time. "I've been wondering something. I keep hearing this story about Cheddar, and some pepper cheese?"

Kiari's eyes danced green fire in the desert light. "That, my friend, is quite a story. And not one I would tell just anyone, you know. Your princess might not approve."

Suddenly Lance was dying to know. "Oh, she wouldn't mind," he said confidently. An attendant stuck her head outside the tent and gestured at them.

"I think she is ready for visitors, now," Kiari said, grabbing Lance's hand and pulling him. "Let us go see her, and you may ask her yourself."

VVVVVV

Keith didn't guess many poems wrong. He and Beverly loved books with a deep, abiding passion. They had met at the bookstore where she worked making lattes and stocking shelves. He had noticed her weeks before, admiring the quiet efficiency of the way she juggled the espresso machine, the cash register, and the telephone, and yet always seemed to remain pleasant and calm no matter how hectic things got.

One day, as he was trying to decide between two books by the same author, she breezed past him on her way to answer the telephone. "You don't want that one," she said, thumping the book in his left hand with her index finger. "It's really, really terrible."

Irritated, he thought, _I can pick out my own damn books_, and bought it anyway. Later that night, he had to admit she had been right. It was so terrible, in fact, that he not only stopped reading it halfway through, something he almost never did, but he actually threw it in the trash.

"You were right," he told her sheepishly the next day as she shelved books.

She didn't say "I told you so," but she did turn to him, balancing a stack of books on one hip, and smiled. That was when he noticed her eyes were green and her light brown hair had streaks of gold. "This one's great," she said, pointing to a book with her free hand. "I have this feeling…" she tilted her head to one side, looking at him closely. "I have this feeling you'll love it."

She was right again.

He started coming by the bookstore on his way to work for morning coffee, and stopping off after work for another one, and another book, and another of her slow smiles, and a conversation in between her effortless juggling of espresso, stocking, register, and telephone. He wanted so badly to ask her out, but he hadn't really dated since high school, and he wasn't sure he knew how. She was always glad to see him, though, and would start his double-shot latte, plain, the second she saw his black hair in the bookstore window.

One busy day he was waiting in line, scanning the book in his hand, when he heard someone yelling at her.

"I ordered a cappuccino, not a latte, you stupid bitch," yelled the young man, who towered over Beverly by about half a foot. He ignored her calm offer to remake it and poured it out on the counter, over her arm that had been counting back change. She cried out as the hot coffee burned her.

Keith did not remember moving, but he did, and fast. He grabbed the guy's arm, twisting it under and behind his back, and locked his other arm around the offender's neck in a chokehold. "Excuse us," he told Beverly flatly as he ushered the stunned man out the front door. Once on the sidewalk, Keith tightened his hold on the man's neck, cutting off his air. He heard something in the man's twisted arm snap. "If you ever set foot in there again, if you ever so much as look at her again, I will find you and I will kill you. You won't be the first, either." He dropped the man on the sidewalk and left him there, choking and sputtering, and turned to see her staring at him through the window. She was shaking. He took her over to the sink, behind the counter where he had never been before, and calmly, gently, held her burned arm under cool, running water. "I'm sorry, I know it hurts," he told her softly, feeling powerless as she trembled. "What can I do?"

Her green eyes were huge as she stared at him. "I get off at six," she all but whispered. "Do you like Italian? I know this place…"

Her voice was musical as she recited the last poem, calling him back to her, out of his memories, to her presence, today, in his bed. It had to be the last poem, because, "moderate activity only" or not, he knew his poetry, and as she read to him, a whole lot of kissing had been going on. Her towel was slipping dangerously low, only inches from falling off completely, and he was tired of waiting….

…Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,

Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:

And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

Steady thy laden head across a brook;

Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,

Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours…

"Arnold Schwarzenegger, from that movie, um, 'Commando'?" he teased, making a grab for her towel.

"Cheater," she pouted, pulling out of his reach. "I don't drop my towel for just any cheap trick…"

"Keats," he admitted, eyes bright as he pulled her, and the towel, up close. "Ode to Autumn."

She fit perfectly against him, her lips brushing his as she whispered, "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you…"

He shushed her the best way he knew how, by kissing her deeply, the force of his emotions once again overwhelming him. They kissed as if they might never see each other again, his hands roaming through her hair, caressing her face, pulling her closer to him, while she touched him shyly, carefully, as if he might break, or disappear. His hands roamed down her bare back, and he rolled himself over so that she was underneath him, staring at him with her luminous eyes.

Afterwards, she lay with her back against his chest, their fingers intertwined.

"I want to have your baby," she said solemnly.

"I want that too, sweetheart," he murmured, kissing her throat.

"I almost lost you. I want to have something that's a part of you, a part of both of us, so that can never happen again," she said, touching his hair. She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked, and she nodded, pulling him closer to her. "I bet I can keep you warm. The best way to share body heat is skin to skin…"

His head snapped up, his eyes suddenly unfocused, as he heard his words repeated, word for word, by someone else…someone familiar…someone very far away…He felt the tugging of the cord that he had felt before, as Beverly hissed and moved beneath him, and he repeated, an echo of someone else's words, ""Skin to skin, for warmth," and he remembered, suddenly, and even more than that, he could _see them, could see Allura, through Lance's eyes, shaking and crying out and sick and frightened in the dark and cold, and even Lance was frightened, because Keith was missing, his friend and brother was missing, and they loved her, Allura, both of them, and they were alone in the howling dark, and he was trying to keep her warm, and he was terrified as she shook against him…._ And he remembered what he was doing here, undertaking a challenge, and that he had sent help, he hoped, and now he had to choose…choose with his heart…

When Keith looked back down at the woman beneath him, it was not Beverly's green eyes that stared back at him. It was not the woman who had agreed to marry him, and then died in a plane crash weeks before their wedding day. It was not the woman whose death had left him wandering New York City like an empty shell of a person, waiting for something, he knew not what, until two Garrison officers showed up one day and asked him if he had ever heard of a planet called Arus, and a legend, a fairy tale, really, about lions and a giant robot…"Morgana," he hissed, so disgusted he felt like throwing up, so enraged he felt like killing, so engulfed by grief he felt like dying….


	23. Chapter 23: The Cost of Hope

Author's note: Thanks to all of you who have stayed with me throughout this. I have learned a lot, thanks to Mertz, Xia Cheyenne, cms, Star Duchess, the brilliant Rocky Oberlin, Lady Alkina, peacockfeather, kitten, Ms. Mara Jade, who originally inspired me to start this, and to Heart of Demons, who always reminds me that the remedy to any angsty situation is a good old fashioned Robeast fight… bear with me, Heart, I'll get there… and remember: **K&A, but edgy, with competition…**

Playlist: Steve Earle's new cover album of Townes Van Zandt songs. Oh, and Cat Power, "The Greatest."

And all standard disclaimers apply: I do not own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Twenty-Three:

The Cost of Hope

Princess Allura stretched out against the clean blankets she was laying on, brought to replace the sweat-soaked sleeping bags by Kiari's attendants. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that her head wasn't on fire for the first time in days, or that the thick, soft, multi-hued blanket actually felt that good beneath her, but it did feel wonderful to stretch without shaking. Her hair had been washed for the first time in what seemed like days, and she enjoyed feeling its dampness against her shoulders in the dry desert air. The older women who had tended to her after Kiari had…done something… to her head, something that made the burning stop, had looked through the bag Nanny had packed for her and shook their heads, talking amongst themselves. "This will not work in this climate, Princess," one of them told her. "With your permission, perhaps you would not mind wearing something of my lady's? Something more suitable to the desert air?"

Allura smiled and agreed quickly. She actually loved wearing new kinds of clothing. _As long as Lotor's not choosing_, she thought bitterly. It was almost like a game of dress-up as Kiari's attendants offered her several choices. She settled on a pair of tight, but loosely woven, dark blue leggings and a long dress of such a shimmering, light blue color that she felt as if she was wearing a scrap of the sky. The dress fit her snugly but flared at her hips, and had slits in the sides that went well above mid-thigh, showing off the form-fitting blue leggings even as they allowed for freedom of movement. _I could even ride in this_, she thought, and wondered if it was a fashion she could coax Nanny into accepting back at the castle. Allura remembered with amusement that dress-up had been one of the many games she and Kiari had played as little girls, in the original Castle of Lions…

"How are you feeling, angel?" Lance asked, standing shyly by the entrance to the tent. She was sitting up, a bit pale, perhaps, but steady and alert, skin scrubbed a clean rosy pink, her blonde hair drying rapidly, an almost empty tray of food on the ground near her feet. She smiled hugely at him, dressed in the clothing of a desert princess, no doubt borrowed from Kiari. He couldn't believe how beautiful she was, how much healthier and happier she looked. He slowly, shyly, knelt beside the cot, catching her hands in his. "You look not just better, but beautiful."

Allura looked down at Lance, the man who had kept her warm and had sheltered her, had given her love and sweet, shy kisses… "Oh, Lance. I'm so glad to see you. You did so much to help me." She pulled him up beside her, throwing her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered. "I haven't forgotten, how you cared for me, and…after. Let's never forget, alright, love?" She raised her head to look into his blue eyes and threw her arms around him again, while his arms moved up around her as well, crushing her to him, almost afraid to let her go.

Kiari went to sit with Allura on the other side of the blanket-heaped cot, catching her up in a heartfelt hug, which the princess returned whole-heartedly. "I am so glad to see you well," Kiari told her, her green eyes misty as she looked into Allura's blue ones.

"Thanks to you, Kiari of the Red Dawn. It was you who stopped the burning, and for that, I will be forever grateful, old friend." She looked at Kiari first, then at Lance, suddenly confused. "Where's Keith?" she asked.

Lance exchanged a quick look with Kiari. "That's the bad news, angel. We've been waiting until you could travel. We have to go to the city, into the mountain caverns where the Clans meet. Keith is… Keith is undergoing some kind of challenge. He had too, if we are to receive any of the resources the Council controls…"

Allura looked at Kiari. "And yet, here you are, with fighters, and you healed me…"

"I control only my own Clan, and was able to convince some other Clan Leaders to join with me. I freely pledge what resources we have to your service, Princess. But the Council controls most of the resources, like the trillium reserves we are quite literally sitting on, and building materials, and even more trained soldiers. Morgana heads the council now, and she invoked the right to challenge your Commander Keith Kogane." Kiari clenched her fists. "But now that you are well, Princess, we must travel. Morgana is not to be trusted. Her time on the Council must come to an end if we are to have the unified Arus we will need to defeat Zarkon. And I do not trust her, and I fear for your commander. We must go to the city immediately." Kiari was already standing, making for the door. "I will have my people pack your things. We must go as the wind. Tell me, do you ride?" she asked Lance.

He fought hard not to grin. "A bit," he admitted, modestly. "But I prefer to fly."

Allura held on to Lance as he pulled her up. "Kiari, it would be fastest if you rode with us in Red Lion and showed us the way."

Kiari paused, deep in thought. "You are right, but it means the three of us will face Morgana together. Alone. Princess, you must not try to fight her. Her magic is powerful, and you are only shielded. You must let me try to fight her, if it comes to that."

It was then that Lance pulled a white dagger from his ankle sheath. "I have it on good authority that this knife will cut through anything, even magic. Do you think that might be helpful, against Morgana?"

Kiari looked almost spooked as she took in Lance and his knife. "Very useful indeed, Fire Heart," she said, using the exact same name King Alfor had called him. He groaned.

"Not you too," he complained, but she was already gone, barking out orders as she walked through her people. She was arguing with Saran when he and Allura reached Red Lion. The guard stalked off furiously as Kiari climbed into Red with him. As he had expected, there were two jump seats waiting. "They will follow us," she told them, strapping herself in. "We will have the strength of five clans behind us, following as fast as they can."

_I hope it's not too late by then_, Lance thought grimly, glad for once that Allura couldn't hear him. He fingered his dagger. _And I hope that it's enough_.

VVVVV

Keith recoiled, trying to push himself off Morgana, but she laughed as he found himself caught, frozen immobile in a position he had shared with no one other than his dead fiancée, by some unseen force, surrounded by nothing but darkness. "Let me go," he said, rage boiling up within him. "Let me go, or so help me, I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Not yet," she said, her eyes flashing fire beneath him.

"I have chosen," he said, "and the choice wasn't Beverly, or that other life, and it's certainly not you. I saw through it. I choose Arus. I choose Allura. I choose my friends. Now. Let. Me. Go." His teeth were clenched together as he growled at her.

"You haven't made the whole choice," she said. "You could choose this life, with her, with Beverly, and it could be real…could be real in every way. _And she would live. You could make her live again._ You must see, before you choose, see it all," and Morgana grasped his head between his hands, forcing the visions on him…

Beverly in his embrace, his and none other…

Beverly on their wedding day, her dress blinding in the sun, white with sparkles all over, her veil thrown back, the happiest, most content smile on her face as she left the altar on his arm…

Beverly laying with him in the middle of their bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows, his hand on her pregnant belly, his face looking shell-shocked as he felt their child kicking…

Beverly sleeping, a book of fairy tales fallen to the floor beside the rocking chair as he leaned down and picked up their black-haired daughter and carried her to bed…

Beverly crying, loudly, this one time, as they watched their black-haired, green eyed daughter waving goodbye through the back window as they pulled away from a green, tree-covered college campus…

Beverly holding his hand as he sat with her in a hospital, her head covered with a scarf, her green eyes ringed with shadows as she underwent chemotherapy…

Beverly sitting at the head of a long table, her hair graying, wearing glasses, surrounded by their daughter and her family, which included a pair of identical twin girls with light brown curly hair and green eyes…

He had no idea how much time passed as what might have been flashed before his eyes. It seemed like an instant and it seemed like days. He lived through it all, saw the whole life he could have, still, if he would choose it, and it was a good, peaceful life, the best that a man could ask for, long and happy and full of love but not without challenges and disappointments. But it was all shadows and ashes. Beverly was dead, and he loved another...

"Why are you doing this?" he asked Morgana, laying underneath her now, a prisoner of her magic while tears ran down his face. "You know what I have chosen. Those were the terms. I chose Arus. Let me go."

She did not move. "I want something from you," she told him, face impassive. "The same thing she wanted. Then I will let you go."

"You must be insane," he said, struggling against invisible bonds. "You are breaking the accords, doing this."

"I don't care. A child of ours would be the most powerful warrior and magician of all the ages. I have seen this. It is prophecy. He would make the Drule Empire look like a wisp of smoke." She touched his face, and he was once again reminded of a snake.

"Morgana," he said, through gritted teeth, seething with rage as he lay pinned by her magic. "This will be your undoing."

A sudden flare of blinding light appeared through a gaping rip in the darkness surrounding them. Keith could just make out the blade of a blindingly white dagger as it cut through the wall of Morgana's dark magic. The world seemed to split as Lance continued cutting through whatever dark limbo Morgana had them in, until Keith could finally see that there was a world beyond the darkness, and his friends were waiting for him there….

VVVVV

As Lance and Allura burst into the room behind Kiari, they could see Keith and Morgana, locked into some kind of embrace, Keith struggling underneath the woman, but not really able to move, surrounded by a shimmering dome that swirled with eerie green lines of snaking light. "This can't be good," Lance said, taking in the scenario in front of him with one quick glance, his white dagger, a gift from a ghost, grasped firmly in his hand. _There is nothing it cannot cut…even magic_, he remembered, and stepped up to the dome, ignoring Kiari's cry of alarm, and stabbed the dome with his dagger, continuing to draw the weapon slowly down the wall of magic, watching it separate beneath his blade….

Keith watched as his friends grew more and more distinct, the gaping rip in the darkness around him letting in more and more light until the darkness faded entirely and he was once again in the room with the crackling green fire. Allura peered at him around Lance's shoulder, her expression telling him she had seen the whole thing: Morgana, on top of him, touching his face, while he was unable to move away… Her face reflected hurt and confusion, while Lance stood protectively in front of the princess, holding her father's dagger in one hand. Keith's own rage was lessened by seeing her, whole and healthier, standing between his best friend and the red-haired girl, Kiari, who had stepped in front of Allura as well.

"Morgana," Kiari intoned formally as the witch cowered away from her. "You have forfeited your right to call yourself Clan Leader. You no longer belong to the Fire Tribe. We cast you out. The sun will burn yet you will find no shelter with us," she said.

Lance grasped his friend by the hand, pulling him up off the low couch. He had seen the position Keith had been trapped in; he knew, also, that Allura had seen, as well. Lance's blue eyes looked into his Commander's rage-darkened brown ones, and he felt real concern as he wondered about the extent of the damage done to his best friend. He had never felt such seething pain and anger and remorse and self-hatred…what the hell had the witch done to him?

Keith felt himself pulled into the circle of friends and unlikely allies, moving instinctively to put himself between Morgana and Allura, his sword already in his hands, but Lance put his hand on his arm. "This is no longer our fight, Keith," he whispered. "Allura is better because she's been blocked; all her abilities have been shut down. Kiari is the only one who can fight Morgana's magic." But Keith did not relax his protective stance.

Morgana threw out a wall of green fire at Kiari, who had stepped forward in front of all of them. She held her hand out, palm forward, and a red wall appeared between them, bending slightly as it absorbed the impact of Morgana's fire. "Is that all you have?" she asked calmly, advancing slowly, hand still outstretched. "You cast green, Morgana. You have been using the darker arts. I guess betraying your people and your planet was not enough."

"You have grown in your own abilities, far more than I had realized," the witch said, thoughtfully. "Had I known, had I any idea, you would not be here breathing today. Saran did well to hide this from me. Even so, I am still the stronger; you can only hope to shield yourself and these others. You cannot best my attacking arts. Dark magic has only enhanced those."

"True," Kiari said, advancing even closer to Morgana. She closed her eyes tightly and her entire body became enveloped in light red flames. "But I have attacking arts that you don't, _witch_. You forget that I, unlike you, have been trained never to rely on magic alone. Saran has been teaching me to fight since the day he took me from the Drule slave ship." As the younger woman advanced on her, Morgana cast more green flames, which swirled around the red light that Kiari wore like a second skin, before crackling and disappearing. As Kiari advanced, Morgana's body developed her own shield, a skin of crackling green fire. The younger woman grabbed Morgana by the very hand that had shot out fire just moments before, and, grabbing onto her upper arm with her other hand, dropped to one knee as she flipped Morgana onto her back at her feet. Green and red sparks shot off them as they fought hand-to-hand. Kiari moved so fast Keith couldn't follow it with his eyes; the young woman had one knee on her chest, pressing Morgana firmly to the floor, while her forearm pushed against the witch's neck, cutting off her air. Her other arm pinned both Morgana's hands above her head. Sparks danced and crackled off the both of them. Her face was pressed right into the witch's, contorted with rage. "How _dare_ you put your filthy hands on him, the sword-bearer himself?" she whispered. "How _dare_ you profane the ancient accords our ancestors made with the House of Altaire?" Kiari used the hand that had been on Morgana's neck to press on her head, attempting to block her magic, as she had done to Keith in what seemed like a lifetime ago. He winced as he realized how true that actually was. For him, it _had _been a lifetime ago, a whole life unlived…

"You cannot block me, _girl_," hissed Morgana. "You have no idea what you have done here today. You are interfering with forces you cannot even imagine, forces set in motion long before any of us were born." She glowed an even brighter green, and turned to look at the three members of the Voltron Force, staring at her in various states of shock. "You think you are starting over. You think you are rebuilding Arus. But you do not see that you are only fulfilling a prophecy, you are only setting the stage for an even greater battle to come. Your great city, your new age, your circle of friendship and love…all will crumble and be dust in your hands. I have seen this. I have prepared for it." She looked at Keith. "I have what I wanted, what I came here for, and none of you will find me again, until it is too late." She glowed even more, impossibly bright, and Kiari let go of her with a cry, her hands and arms burned, as the witch Morgana faded away into nothingness, leaving not a trace behind.

Keith felt a dark, cold dread settle in as the impact of her words fully hit him. _But she wanted only one thing… but nothing happened…_ he tried to remember, to think back over the entire experience, with Beverly, with Morgana, and his stomach twisted even as his heart did, as he remembered his dead fiancée, remembered pulling her to him, into his embrace…_but that wasn't real…_ _was it?_ He stood perfectly still as waves of rage and shock shook him. The cavern seemed like a tomb to him, suddenly, and he felt as if he had been buried alive. "I have to get out of here," he said woodenly. "I have to see the sky. I have to fly."

Allura wanted to go to him, to embrace him, but she could not. She could not erase the memory of the scene they had burst in on, even though she knew it was not his fault. It was just too much right now. She couldn't hear him, couldn't speak to him, in her mind, but she knew, instinctively, that he had withdrawn into himself, and to try to pull him out might unleash a killing rage. "That's a good idea," she said softly. "I want to go home." She would wait for him, she decided. She would wait for him to let her back in, even as he had waited for her, by her side, in Med Center. It seemed like so long ago, but Keith was worth waiting for; he was worth being strong for. _Love is patient, love is kind…_ she remembered dimly, not able to place the fragment of a poem. "Kiari," she asked gently, "would you take us back to the Lions? It's time to go home."

VVVVV

Keith said nothing from the time they left the room in the cavern until the time they arrived at the Lions. Lance and Allura followed behind him anxiously. They could not share his thoughts, but they did not need to; a black despair rolled off him like a vapor trail. _I will wait for him,_ Allura thought, remembering how he held her in Haggar's laboratory, how he waited for her to come out of her own shell that first time, in Med Center. _I will wait for him to let down his walls, and I will be there when he does_, she vowed.

Lance just shook his head as he thought of Morgana's trickery, and of what it might mean to Keith, what it might do to him. Keith's rigid sense of honor and duty had to be tearing him apart at even the thought of a child… _He might never be the same_, Lance thought, anxious for his friend, for all of them. He wished he could assure him that it would be all right, that whatever had happened, whatever might happen, they would deal with it, all of them, but he knew now was not the time.

Allura rode in Red Lion with Lance. She had started to follow Keith into Black Lion, but he held her back, merely whispering that their commander needed to be alone right now. Kiari had agreed to accompany them back. With Morgana's defeat, she had been unanimously declared the new Council Leader, so she agreed to come to the castle to make arrangements for the help the Fire Tribe would provide.

It was strange, Allura thought. The castle had been nearly deserted for so long, and soon, it would fill with warriors, builders, healers… and it was just the beginning. Her people would be coming from all over the planet to work towards building a unified Arus. They had done it, had brought in the Fire Tribes, and they would do it again with the other Elementals. Keith was uniting the tribes, was bringing them together under one common cause, and they would build the city her father had planned, ushering in a new age of prosperity and peace for her planet, with the Voltron Force to protect them from Zarkon… She thought of the great city her father had planned. It had not been named. _Elison_, she mused, thinking of the man who had protected her, loved her, and died for her, so long ago. She had been another person then, another kind of princess. _It is a good name, strong and musical…Elison, the capital city of Planet Arus_…

"Are you out there, guys?" a familiar voice broke in over the comm. system. Pidge sounded weary. "You disappeared from our sensors when you landed in the mountains. Black Lion, Red Lion, do you read me?"

Allura felt a wave of relief as she heard Keith respond. "We read you, Castle Control. Everyone's here, and everyone's… well, we're all here." His voice was flat, expressionless.

"And the princess?" asked another, anxious voice. Koran. "Is she well?"

"I'm fine, Koran," Allura assured her advisor and surrogate father. "We found help, and a few other surprises." Kiari ginned. "I am well, but not really healed. It's more like I've been… bandaged. We must travel on to the Water Tribes, Koran, as soon as possible. It's hard to explain, but they are the only ones who can truly heal me and train me."

"Thank the goddess," Koran said over the comm. system. "We thought perhaps the massive trillium deposit was responsible for the interference with communications, so we decided to be patient, but it is good to hear your voice, my dear," he added, in a rare display of public affection.

"Speaking of surprises," Pidge said, excitement replacing the weariness in his voice. "Wait 'til you get back to the castle. We've got one whopper of a surprise for you guys. I can't wait to see your faces…" he added with glee.

"Come on, little buddy, give us a hint," Lance coaxed, intrigued.

There was whispering over the comm. system before Koran replaced Pidge. "I began the negotiations you requested before your… before the Robeast attack, Princess." Even Koran sounded gleeful. "It worked out better than I expected. The mineral rights to some of the trillium deposits were a more than adequate bargaining chip, as was the opportunity to see what Voltron could do. I think you will be pleased with the results so far."

"Negotiations?" Allura repeated, confused. "What negotiations?"

"For equipment, supplies, weaponry and…" the older man sounded like a child at Christmas. "Fighters, Princess. I have found a supplier, a private corporation, not bound to the Alliance, and they have been both prompt and reasonable. We have the beginnings of an air assault force again, in addition to building materials and machinery."

"That's fantastic," Allura almost yelled. Lance was strangely silent. "Isn't it? Keith? Lance?" But both men merely mumbled their assents. She frowned. Keith's isolation she could understand, and even respect, but Lance? It made her wonder…

"The supplier has been working with us with a large degree of secrecy," Koran continued, "which is wise, considering that we are still at war. We have received small shipments at different times as neither party wishes to attract too much attention, given the hostilities with Planet Doom. However, with your return, and her majesty's continued health, we can receive larger shipments with Voltron to defend us."

"That's wonderful, Koran," Allura said, leaning back in her seat with a sigh of relief. "Wonderful work. And please tell Nanny to prepare a suite of guest rooms. The Council Leader of the Red Dawn Clan, the Lady Kiari, is returning with us, to make preparations for any aid we might require, including personnel and raw materials."

Koran was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was raw with emotion. "I had not thought to see her again. It will be an honor to host the daughter of Clan Leader Aran, who was a good friend and ally of King Alfor."

Kiari, listening to the whole exchange, had tears in her eyes as she leaned in towards Lance. "It will be good to see you too, Koran, and to see the Castle of Lions once more." She caught Allura's eyes then, and added, impishly, "And to give her majesty's pet mouse the cheese I have been saving for him, since he did not like the last kind I brought him."

Allura and her red-haired friend and ally dissolved into fits of laughter. _I have to hear this story_, Lance vowed, _if I have to tie them up and torture it out of them…_ Seeing the princess and Kiari laughing like the carefree young women they should be, instead of the battle-weary fighters they had to be, loosened the knot of fear in his chest. He hesitated, not sure if he should ask, but decided he would rather know than be surprised. "Uh, Koran?" he asked. "These fighters. This supplier. You wouldn't be able to tell us anything about them, would you? Where they're from, the…" he gulped. "The name of the company?"

Koran was silent for a moment as he heard Pidge in the background, assuring the older man that the channel was secure. "It's a corporation from Earth, a large private company that supplies military fighters and other equipment to many governments. I believe they even do business with Galaxy Garrison." Koran chuckled. "I'm glad you asked, Lieutenant. They're called McClain Aeronautics and Industrials. Coincidence, I know, because the owners are actually some kind of minor Earth nobility, but the name caught my eye out of several different choices." Lance's chest tightened as the diplomat continued. "A fortunate coincidence, because they have been most helpful. In fact, one of the company's owners arrived with the first supply of fighters, to get a better idea of how to best meet our needs, they said." Lance actually stopped breathing for a moment, and Red Lion dipped dangerously out of formation. "Nanny has been ecstatic to have important guests to see to, so Lady Kiari will be very well looked after." Koran sounded deeply content as he added, "It seems as if things are returning to what they once were, Princess."

"Red Lion, status report!" Keith barked at him.

"Sorry Koran, gotta go," Lance said, almost slamming his fist into the console as he cut the link to the castle.

"Lance, what the hell was that?" Keith demanded again, sharply, but Lance was suddenly having trouble breathing.

"He was just…excited, I think, Keith. Over the news," Allura said, leaning forward to grip Lance tightly by the shoulders

"Yeah," he choked out, knuckles white against the control bar.

"Well, watch it, McClain. We're almost home."

_I know_, Lance thought. _That's the trouble. Home… it caught up with me…_

"It will be all right," Allura whispered. She had released herself from the jump seat and was holding him around his pilot's chair. "I promise, it will be all right…"

Kiari looked confused, but held her tongue anxiously.

"This is my home now," he said suddenly, fiercely, to himself as much as anyone, as Allura tightened her hold on him.

"Of course it is," she said soothingly. "And we are your family. _I_ am your family. Anyone who hurts you, hurts us all. And we will not allow that to happen," she vowed, remembering him holding her as she shook and was sick in the howling desert night. She would do the same for him, for all of them, her teammates, even as they would do the same for her.

Lance said nothing, merely shadowed Black Lion's silent, tortured pilot as the two of them flew towards the castle, towards a unified Arus that would be safe and green, no matter how painstakingly, painfully built. No matter what it cost them.


	24. Chapter 24: Forces of Nature

Author's note: Thanks again to all of you who have been so patient while I've worked on this. The last two chapters were difficult to write on a number of levels, and I suspect many of you had similar reactions, judging from some of your responses. It just had to be done. But, done it is, and so, it is with great delight that I present you with the following warning: **The following chapter contains an adult situation. **The extremely sensitive among you should consider yourselves warned. Also, notice there is no pairing warning! He he! Woo hoo! I will keep this brief, so please forgive me for not thanking so many of you personally, as I can't wait to start writing the next chapter immediately. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Special note: For more on Lance's family background, and to get some insight into his sister's situation, I've written a short one-shot piece called "Brother Mine," which is sort of a companion piece, if anyone is curious.

Playlist: The new John Vanderslice album, forget what it's called, and some old favorites like Cat Power's "The Greatest," and Malcolm Mclaren's incredibly sexy song "About Her."

And, as always, all the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Twenty-Four:

Forces of Nature

Lance was still gripping the control bar, knuckles white, when they touched down in front of the castle.

"It will be ok, Lance," Allura tried to assure him, remembering everything she had heard about his family on that long night in the desert, when his words and his arms had kept her from going crazy.

"But my father…" he said, staring vacantly ahead, as if seeing ghosts.

_Maybe he is seeing ghosts_, Allura thought, grimly. "You are second in command of the Voltron Force," she reminded him, gently. "You are one of the most important people on this entire planet. None of us, no one out there waiting for us, would be here if it wasn't for you and the rest of the Force. If he can't be proud of that, if he won't show you the respect you deserve, then I swear by the goddess I'll have him banished off-planet. I swear it," she added forcefully. "I might anyway," she muttered darkly, remembering some of the stories Lance had told her about his abusive father. "I don't care how many shiny new fighters he can give us."

Kiari, resplendent in her shimmering green desert finery, slid her skirt's side-slits back far enough to reveal a wicked-looking dagger strapped to her thigh. "I do not know what fearsome creature we are about to meet, but I can make sure that banishment is not necessary," she said. Lance wondered how she managed to sound so deadly and so reassuring at the same time.

"It's all right," he said, as much to himself as to his two companions. "It's been years. Maybe he won't recognize me. Maybe it's not even him." But he didn't believe that. He looked down at his white-knuckled grip on the control bar and slowly pried his fingers free, one by one. "Keith," he said, activating visual as well as audio on the comm. system, "do you want me to return Red Lion to its docking bay after I drop off the princess and Kiari?" he asked, moderately hopeful.

"It's Lady Kiari, Lance, since we're back at the castle. We need to be a bit more formal since we're entertaining visiting nobility, no matter how 'minor,' from Earth," Keith answered in a sharp, clipped manner, his face as stiff as if it had been chiseled in stone. Allura started to protest even as Kiari rolled her eyes, but Keith continued. "So no, Lance, we aren't just 'dropping off' the Princess Allura and _Lady_ Kiari. I'm landing with you, and we will escort them as befits their station." Lance bit back a protest as he took in his commander's bleak, impassive expression. He reminded himself that they both had demons to fight, and Keith was struggling mightily with his right now, Lance could tell. His friend had fallen into his super-formal by-the-book mode, which was yet another way Keith created a wall between himself and the rest of the world, and that included people who might have a chance of getting through to him. _He needs space,_ Lance instinctively knew. _Time and space. But there's a point…_ he remembered back to the night of the star shower, when he and Keith had talked long into the night about the bond between themselves and Allura. _There's a point where he might need a friendly little ass-kicking to pull him out of that killing rage. That's what best friends are for…_

Outside the castle, a small group had gathered. There were Hunk and Pidge, of course, the younger member of their team practically dancing with excitement; Koran and Nanny, as self-possessed as ever, but there was also a group of black-clad guards in full assault gear, including helmets and weapons, converged protectively around a single, unidentifiable figure. Lance stared at the guards, remembering the many times he had seen similar personnel around his family's home and business, how much a part of the background of his life they had once been, realizing, suddenly, that assault guards in the background of anyone's childhood was _not_ normal, and that perhaps he had more in common with the inhabitants of this war-torn planet than he had originally thought…

An insistent but gentle tug on his arm brought him back to the present. Kiari smiled at him as she placed her hand on his arm. _Lady Kiari_, he corrected himself, as he realized Allura had already exited and was anxiously hovering beside an impassive Keith. _God, she's beautiful_, he realized with a shock. She was taller than Allura, tall enough to look at him levelly with green eyes that sparked fire. Her red hair flowed across her shoulders and reached almost to her waist, like Allura's, but was gathered back from her face with small braids threaded through with gold strands that wrapped around the crown of her head, making it look as if she was wearing a circlet of gold. Her skin was golden, as well, unlike any redhead he had ever seen, tanned by the desert, no doubt. Her dress was the same shimmering green as her eyes, and it hugged her figure closely until it flared across her hips, where deep side-slits in the long skirt parted to reveal shapely, muscular legs clad in skin-tight dark green leggings and knee-high boots of supple tan leather. Her body was curvier than the petite princess's, as evidenced by the fact that her own dress was much tighter on her than Allura's borrowed one was on the princess…

_Lance_, said a soft voice in his mind. _Please call me Kiari, when it's just us._

"Oh _hell_," he swore, realizing she was using mind-speech, and had probably heard everything he had just been thinking. Red-faced suddenly, he sputtered, "Not you too!"

She smiled wider, amused at his discomfort. "I only blocked your two friends, you know. And I do not eavesdrop, Lance McClain, though I can hear you should you choose to speak to me, mind to mind. But your face is more expressive than you perhaps realize." She leaned in close to him, her hand still on his arm. She smelled like cinnamon. "Your princess and I shall be so dazzling that no one will look elsewhere. Please, will you escort me?" _I shall be your shield, if you will let me…_

Dazed, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, suddenly determined to be every inch the soldier and gentleman he had fought against being for as long as he could remember. "It would be an honor," he replied, overwhelmed by the brave, beautiful, fierce, yet kind, woman on his arm. So he walked with her, into the sun, the second-in-command of the mighty Voltron Force, to face his past.

VVVVV

Here in this circle, inside the ring of my guards, I can hear, rather than see, the Lions as they descend. I see them overhead, a brief flash of red and black and silver, of big metal claws and lion's heads that seem to me to be smiling instead of fearsome… but perhaps that is wishful thinking. Perhaps I am only imagining that one of their pilots is smiling, too. That is all I have seen of them, so swiftly do they fly, and I am shorter than my guards by several inches at the least, so I will have to wait, I do not know how long, to see them up close. I want to see them up close. Not only because… he… pilots one, but because they are the Lions of Voltron, creatures of myth come to life, and the entire galaxy is holding its breath to see if it is true, if this giant robot named Voltron that appeared from nowhere only a few months before can really continue to give Zarkon's forces the beating they deserve, if it can save other planets, other people, the way it has snatched Arus back from almost total annihilation.

There is so little here in the way of technology. What little they have is almost solely dedicated to defense. They do not even have a regular news feed, and communications must be carefully encrypted. There is no way they could know how the news of their victories is spreading like wild fire throughout the galaxy, no way they could know the hope they have generated… the hope they have given me, not just because of Zarkon, but because of my family. Finding him here, finally, having to work in secret for so long with my own limited resources, has been like finding the sun after a decade of darkness.

I am not here just because of the Lions, although anyone who has anything to do with defense or technology would probably cut off an arm to be able to get a close look at them. I would have come running through any war zone to find him. I will give any resource I have to help him. The board is so angry with me because I am practically giving away our best technology. Of course, there is the trillium, and that will help to pacify the board. But their anger is their own problem. I am in charge now, whether they like it or not, and before I leave here, if they will have it, I will leave this planet with the best equipment they could want. Unfortunately, their biggest problem seems to be a lack of people to fight with it.

I move my toe in slow circles in the dust as I wait for him, my long black dress hiding these tiny movements. I am so nervous. I could not eat the delicate pastries the housekeeper, known only as "Nanny," made for us. She seemed so disappointed that I chattered on about how much I was looking forward to tonight, to the banquet and small party planned as a celebration of our arrival, with the resources we bring, and the return of the Princess, her new allies, and the rest of the Voltron Force. I think it has been a long time since they have had a party. They have been beyond nice to us, although I know our appearance here personally came as something of a shock. But they have been most accommodating; putting us up in the best guest suites they have, treating us more as family than as business partners. It is a way they have here, I think, to treat everyone as family and friends.

The two Lion pilots already here have been refreshingly informal, to the horror of Nanny and the diplomat, Koran. But I love it. They seemed surprised that I am more than a figurehead or a negotiator, that I do actually know something of our fighter's operations, stealth capabilities, weaponry, and such. The pilots who flew the squadron here, so as not to attract the attention of our enemies, some of our best, of course, nearly rebelled when I let the big one, Hunk, crack one open like a nut, our best one, the L-22 Firestorm, but they quieted down when he started asking about the alternating energy bursts between the three dynamic cores; he clearly knows machines, and the younger one, Pidge, just stared at me as if I had three heads as I talked with him.

I like him. Pidge. He has a restful calmness about him. He doesn't get too close to me, as if he senses my walls and instinctively respects them. But he's still friendly, and he's closer to my age. I'm not comfortable around men. They frighten me; I'm always waiting for them to turn on me, even though I know it's only one man I truly fear. I guess I see him in their faces; I wait for his anger and his fists, even though he is gone and will never touch me again. I know this, but I think I will always see him, will always see violence behind every man I meet, will always jump when someone touches me. Every man but one, the one I wait for now, the one I pray will forgive me and help me bury the past. Our past.

This planet is wondrous. Everywhere there are the scars of near-total destruction, but there is so much hope, as well. There is a garden with tiny green shoots, reaching for the sun. There are wide-open spaces, and something for him to fly really, really fast. I smile. Leave it to him to go from prison and disgrace to flying the absolute fastest thing in the universe as the savior of a planet. Most of them have commented on the coincidence of the names, but I remain silent, and mother is always silent now, and the guards and pilots do not know…

They are approaching. I fight back tears. "My Lady," says Koran, the diplomat. My guards part to let him through. He has learned not to take my arm. I jumped away from him the first time he did. Perhaps he thinks it is an Earth custom. Perhaps he thinks I am a terrible snob. "May I present Her Royal Highness, the Princess Allura, and pilot of the Blue Lion, along with Commander Keith Kogane, Leader of the Voltron Force?"

I try not to let my disappointment show. Not him. Not yet. But I am well trained as I make a small curtsy. "Your Highness, Commander," I say. She is blond and beautiful, as I expected her to be, but she is dressed quite strangely. She looks at me with surprise, as if she was expecting someone else. The black haired man beside her barely nods at me. I can sense the violence in him and it terrifies me; I feel the old urges to find a place to hide. Can't they feel it, I wonder, those surrounding him? This man is inches from exploding, and he is deadly. I am glad, suddenly, for my guards, and I fear for my brother, if this is the man in charge of him. I had hoped he would forge a new life with kind people…

And then he is before me, and I barely register the beautiful woman on his arm, or that Koran is talking, saying names. Time freezes. The breath leaves the both of us. As his blue eyes lock with mine, we are children again, and he is throwing himself in front of me, protecting me, from Father's wrath, from Father's fists, and I am standing behind him, hating my father, hating myself, because I am weak and I am small, and I cannot protect him back, I can only watch, helpless, my useless hands clutched into useless fists, as he takes the blows meant for me time and again, and all I can do is hide until it is over, and find him, and hold onto him as I whisper that I'm sorry and I cry into his chest. His tears are always silent, but I know they are there as he holds me back, pets my hair, shushes me, his baby sister, his baby girl. And I know he'll run away again, get into trouble, but he always comes back to me, until that awful day Father had enough, and sent him away, for good this time, gave him to another family like a dog or a cat, and erased his name from our family and our existence.

But not from mine. I kept looking, as best I could. And now Father is dead. And now I've found him again, here on this small, strange planet so far from home, and his blue eyes are shocked, shocked and stormy, staring into mine, as he sees that I am wearing mourning clothes, that's it me and not Father, and Koran is saying, "from Earth, Lady Grayson-McClain..." but my face has already broken and I am already sobbing into his chest, not sure who moved first, him or me, his arms around me, rocking me, just like we are children again, his face in my hair, saying, "Charlotte," and there is a universe of meaning as he chokes out my name, "Charlotte," he says again, "sshhh, baby girl, sshhh," and his name is a strangled cry on my lips, held inside me for so, so long…

"_Lance,"_ I say, and cry even harder, and his arms are still the safest place I have ever been.

All around us people stare in shock. Why did I do it this way, I wonder? Because I could not wait to see him. Because I was afraid he would hate me and might show it less in public. But really, because there is never a right way to do things like this. Things like this are off the map.

He catches me up in his arms and carries me, past my guards who mill about, confused, past his teammates and the others, into the castle and his own quarters there, and he sits on his bed with me while I sob on his shoulder. I have no idea how much I've needed him. I am sixteen years old and our father is dead and our mother sits in the guest room, a shell of a person, under the heavy sedation that has become her daily reality since she lost her only son, and I run a huge corporation in her name because she cannot, but inside I am still small and weak, and I need him, the only man I have ever trusted. He asks me nothing while I cry myself out, just holds me and pets my hair and whispers, "Charlotte, baby sister, sshhh," and eventually all I have left is hiccups, and he gets me a warm wet towel, and wipes my raw, red face carefully. "You'll make yourself sick," he says, and his smile is still crooked.

I look at him in wonder. He has always carried fire inside him, this brother of mine. It used to burn and blaze inside him, a terrible destructive energy, but now, it seems as if he glows and warms rather than blazes and burns. He seems as if he has found…peace.

"Lance," I say again, my head on his shoulder, soaking up the peace inside him. "I found you, brother mine." He feels like home.

VVVVV

Allura looked out over the long table in front of her, graced with dinnerware she had not set eyes on since she was a child, and the bombings had begun. Her bright princess smile hid a myriad of shifting emotions; the table looked almost as it had in the old days, as guests and friends and allies sat around it, talking to one another, and Nanny hovered proudly around them, instructing the young serving girls, pressed into service from amongst the ranks of the many orphan children still living in the shelters, on how and when to serve the many different dishes, their eyes round with awe at what must seem like a truly a wondrous assemblage to them.

She smiled. Although there were undercurrents of tension that went hand-in-hand with politics and negotiations of any kind, it was a wonderful occasion. Nanny had outdone herself. The food was delicious, and her guests were chatting easily amongst themselves, in most cases; the single exception was Keith, whose expression was carefully blank. He responded to direct questions, but seemed to have nothing to add to the conversation on his own. Seated to her immediate left at the head of the table, she tried to compensate for his stony silence by being extremely engaging.

Lance's little sister she had placed to her immediate right. She was anxious to get to know this walking contradiction of a younger copy, outwardly, at least, of her brother. Charlotte Grayson-McClain had her brother's blue eyes and reddish red-brown hair, but she seemed very quiet and reserved, pausing often throughout the course of the meal to stare at her brother, as if to assure herself he was really there. Allura's heart went out to the young woman, who seemed so fragile, and yet surprisingly tough as nails at times, as when she discussed the fighter squadron her best pilots had flown here, cloaked and in small groups, and talked about the building equipment and materials her company could provide as soon as they could arrange for a safe, large transport to be escorted from Earth. Lance's little sister reminded her somewhat of herself; with their father's death, she had chosen to take over operating the company in her mother's name, rather than to merely sit back passively and enjoy the financial rewards being one of the owners no doubt brought her.

"It's too large, and produces too many deadly things for too many planets and governments, for me to be comfortable letting just anyone else run it," she had explained, her blue eyes as serious as her brother's usually weren't. Allura liked and trusted her immediately after she said that. Lance just seemed happy to have her back, smiling at her, joking with her, making the solemn young woman laugh constantly throughout the meal.

Kiari watched the two of them, Lance and his sister, a smile hovering across her lips, a satisfied expression on her face. She and Allura had prepared themselves for dinner together, since there was still a shortage of servants, and her own entourage had not yet arrived from the desert. She expected them soon, but it had been fun to browse through the princess's closet, borrowing a gown even as the princess had borrowed one of hers in the desert, and the two of them had laughed and joked just as they had when they had been children. It would be good to have a friend of her own age and gender in the castle, she thought with a smile. There were some things you just had to have a woman's perspective on, she mused, looking at Keith and Allura out of the corner of her eye.

Koran, at the foot of the table, had been seated next to the Lady Vivienne, Lance's fragile mother, who had done little but look at her son, occasionally speaking with the castle diplomat curiously, as if surprised to find herself talking to him. Charlotte had brought her in the hopes that seeing Lance might help bring her out of the deep depression that had dogged her throughout her stormy marriage, and it seemed to help a little, but, as Lance reminded her, the habits of years would not be broken overnight. He had been kind to her, escorting her to the table, holding out her chair, helping her into it gently, acting the gentleman in a way Allura had never seen before. It choked her up, thinking of Lance and the turns his life had taken.

Charlotte watched her mother speak quietly and hesitantly to the castle diplomat. Koran, surprisingly, had seemed to forge a connection with Lady Vivienne, and had managed to engage her in conversation. It was good step. Doctor Gorma had been consulted about the medication she was taking, and, as Charlotte had suspected, a large part of her depression and emotional withdrawal could be traced directly to the habit-forming sedatives her deceased husband had forced her to consume since Lance's departure. Dr. Gorma thought, with careful oversight, she could be weaned from the worst of them, and as she watched her mother respond positively to her son's presence and to Koran, who had a curious calming effect on her, she was suddenly, fiercely glad she had come.

All in all, the little party had been a great success, and Nanny glowed with satisfaction as the dessert plates were cleared away and the little group made its way to the largest outside patio, decorated with colored lanterns, for light drinks and further conversation. It was then that Allura gathered the nerve to approach Keith, holding himself rigidly alone in a corner of the patio.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked, slipping up beside him as he stared off into the dark.

"Of course, Princess," he replied stiffly. "It was an honor to attend."

She sighed. Not yet. He wasn't ready yet. "Yes, well, it certainly is amazing, how far we've come, since you came, Keith. Voltron wouldn't be possible without you."

He said nothing, looking out into the darkness. "If you'll excuse me, Princess, I'm going to go to bed. I expect to resume Lion practice first thing in the morning. I'll see you then." He swept off into the castle. She watched his retreating back, hurting for him.

"Time," Lance said, slipping his fingers lightly into hers as he watched his best friend stalk away. "Just give him time." Lance gave her his best crooked smile. "And if that doesn't work, I'm going to beat the rage out of him. It's what best friends do." He kissed her quickly, shyly, and whispered into her ear, "Thank you for this party, and for making my mother and my sister feel so welcome here."

She laughed, glad for his warm presence after Keith's cool, enraged wall. "I should be thanking you, for being related to one of the most powerful arms and weapons dealers in the galaxy. And to think, I thought you were a petty criminal…"

He shook his head. "That's life's great joke, Allura. I was a petty criminal. But now," he squeezed her hand. "I'm home. Here on Arus. If you'll have me."

She wrapped herself around him in a hug. "I can't imagine Arus without you, Lance," she said, and as she looked out over the patio, her friends and allies talking and laughing, she was suddenly, fiercely grateful for the day the ragged group of soldiers had staggered into the old castle. Arus wouldn't be the place it was today without her ragtag knights.

VVVVV

She had been dreaming of her mother's garden. She was a small child, in her dream, and her mother held her hand, showing her the different flowers, until they found a strange one, an all-black orchid, and her child's hands reached out for it. Her mother plucked it and pressed it into her hands. "Take care of it, Allura, for there is only one of them, and it is fragile right now. It needs your care…."

She murmured, tossing about as she felt an annoying coldness against her chest, mumbling that she didn't want to wake up yet…

"Ah, but you must wake up, my dear. You and I have unfinished business," said a soft, almost sibilant voice in her ear, and as a heavy, gloved hand clapped itself over her mouth, she knew it was too late to scream. She also realized it would be unwise to thrash too much. Lotor was there, with her, in her bed, and he held a knife to her chest, right in between her breasts, over the fabric of her nightgown.

She instantly stilled herself. She cried out against his glove over her mouth, trying to talk, but he only laughed at her. "You are such an open book, Allura," he said, his breath against her ear making her shiver, but not in a good way. "I'm here to give you the same offer I did before. Give yourself to me willingly, and I will spare your planet, or fight me, in which case I will take what I want anyway, and I will grind your planet into the dust, starting with this shiny new castle of yours, which is full, right now, with friends and allies of yours." She froze. How had he known?

"Oh, yes, my pretty little princess. I know many things about you, about your planet, about your friends, that you think I don't." His whispered breath against her ear had become a series of small kisses down her neck. "I know you have made an alliance, with one of your primitive tribes. I also know you have managed to buy some pretty little toys from McClain Aeronautics and Industrials. Too bad my father has killed anyone of fighting age on this planet. I suppose they will be nice to look at, though. Until I destroy them, too."

He continued to kiss her neck lightly, moving across her throat, grazing her jugular vein, which made her shake. _I hope he doesn't take that the wrong way_, she thought, wishing that her head was healed, that she had already been to see the Water tribes, wishing that Kiari had removed the block on her powers that would have let her call for help. She would have taken the burning in her head to be able to get a warning out. Lotor was in the castle. That couldn't be good…

Suddenly, his knife was moving, slicing through her nightgown, starting at her neck and moving downward. She hissed as the knife sliced through not just cloth, but also grazed skin in places. He was not cutting her deeply, just a series of random scratches every now and then, but it was enough to make her remain as perfectly still as she could. "But mostly, pretty princess, I am here because you have been very naughty," he whispered, his teeth moving to gently nibble at her ear as his knife continued its downward movement. He had cut clean through to her waist. "I know you are now piloting the Blue Lion."

She froze in sheer terror. _How had he known that?_ she wondered as a number of possibilities flashed through her mind. A spy. They had a spy in the castle. That was a possibility, as much as she hated to think of it. The other thought was chilling even as it gave her a glimmer of hope. Sven. Did he know something of Sven's whereabouts?

The knife moved even lower, and she gasped in pain as it scraped her skin, drawing a little blood. As always, her pain and discomfort seemed to excite him; his breathing was quicker. "I know where your friend is, the one called Sven," he said as he cut further. Her nightgown was inches from falling off. "And if you are a very, very good girl, I will tell you…"

"Tell her what, Lotor?" Keith said in a flat, emotionless voice. He was standing directly behind Lotor, lazon blade extended, held against the side of the Prince of Doom's neck. He appeared to be wearing nothing but his pajamas, which consisted of the same pair of silky black pants she had seen him wear in the garden, performing Tai Chi. Allura's eyes widened in relief until Lotor pressed into her skin even more firmly with his knife, maneuvering it so that the blade was angled to plunge deeply into her belly.

"Commander," he said. "What an unpleasant surprise. I suppose you are incapable of noticing that the princess and I are occupied. Sadly, your presence here is not required. This time. If you manage to survive the evening, however, perhaps you can fill in as the entertainment, some other time."

"I am actually glad to see you, Lotor," Keith said, his voice still inflectionless, but Allura knew him well enough to sense the killing rage his tightly controlled façade concealed. "I've had a really, really bad week. And you're just the person to make it better."

He looked at Allura then; although he had the same flat expression, his mouth moved just enough to form the words, "Trust me." She didn't dare nod, but when she saw his sword move, so fast it was nothing more than a swiftly moving blur of light, she sucked her stomach in as tightly as she could and tried to press herself deep into the mattress beneath her. Lotor's blade shot sparks as Keith cut it cleanly in half with a swipe of his sword. The second she no longer felt the press of metal against her, she rolled away from Lotor, landing heavily on the side of the bed that was away from the two fighting men. Lotor had his sword out, she could tell, as she heard the swoosh of dueling lazon blades. She crept on her knees to the end of her huge canopied bed, and watched as Keith gave no quarter. The fight she had seen before was nothing compared to the way he fought now, the rage he had carried within himself, so tightly reined in, was behind every swing and thrust. Still, Lotor met his moves, and as she watched the two men, she came to a quick decision. _He may hate me for it_, she thought grimly as she grabbed a pillow, stood and screamed, "Look out!"

Keith stepped away from Lotor as the pillow hit the Prince of Doom squarely in the chest. Feathers flew everywhere as he slashed at it with a snarl. The snarl turned into a cry of rage as Keith used the distraction to slash at him wildly, cutting deeply into the Prince of Doom's chest and arms, deeply enough that Lotor groaned and fell. Blood pooled around him as he pulled a large sapphire pendant from within his shirt, and, speaking a few low words in Drule, began to shimmer and thin exactly as he had done the time before, when he had taken Keith and Allura with him, to Doom.

With a cry of rage and disappointment, Keith lunged at the fallen prince, driving his sword downward in a two-handed stabbing motion that would have gone straight through Lotor's heart had he not already thinned almost to nothingness. "Not today, Commander," he said, and then disappeared entirely, leaving a large pool of blood on Allura's carpet.

VVVVV

As Keith watched as Lotor fade entirely from view, his expression never wavered. He still wore the same dead, stone-carved expression he'd had had on his face ever since they emerged from the tunnels of the Fire tribe's burned out city. He retracted the blade on his sword, the Sword of Altaire, and looked at her with flat, dead eyes. Even though she was still locked out of his thoughts, underneath his walls of carefully constructed blankness, she could see black despair warring with barely contained rage… It frightened her even more than had Lotor's appearance in her bed.

"Keith," she said, her voice strangled, struggling to reach out to him with the one hand that wasn't holding her nightgown shut, even though it meant walking through a spreading pool of Lotor's blood…

He put up a hand, as if to fend her off. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice clipped yet hoarse, his eyes still dead.

"_No!" _she snapped finally. "What the hell do you think? _I am not all right_, I just woke up to Lotor, _in my bed, with a knife_, and I am still doing better than you are! I am not all right, and it has nothing to do with Lotor, _it has to do with you_, with the walking zombie you've become since we left the desert, and it scares me more than waking up to the Prince of Doom hovering over me, the way you've shut down, shut me out, all of us…"

"_Enough!"_ Keith yelled, advancing on her, one hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword, the other clenched into a fist. She almost took a step backward, so fierce was his anger, but she stopped herself. He would never hurt her. He would never, ever hurt her. She knew this as instinctively as she knew how to breathe, and his anger, his reaction, _any_ reaction, was what she had been hoping for. She had to get through his wall of seething-self hatred, and if this was how…

"Yes, Keith, _enough_," she hissed, "Enough of your silence, your walls, your self-pity, _your cowardice,_" and almost stepped back again at the wrath she had just triggered. "Because that is what this is. You are letting your fear and your anger and your hurt rule you. You are letting what that witch did to you taint the life you have _now_, today, the life you have chosen, and because you are doing that, you are letting her _win_, and yes, I call that cowardice, I call that fear…"

He dropped the sword. He grabbed her by the shoulders, heedless of the blood he was standing in, heedless of the state of her clothing, or the way she was holding herself, and pulled her against his bare chest so that she was staring directly into his black, glazed eyes, full of bottomless rage and despair… "Do you know what she did? Do you, Allura? You only saw part of it… do you know what I lived through, do you know the choice I made? And then had it turn out all wrong anyway? Do you know that somewhere out there, there might be a completely innocent person, created out of this mess…"

"_Keith_," she cried out, not in pain or fear, but because she wanted so badly to break through to him, to reach him, the real him… She struggled against him, grabbing onto his arms, heedless of her nightgown, gaping open between them, as she tried to turn his maniacal hold on her into an embrace. _"Keith_, it's all right, it's me, and whatever happened, whatever will come, I'm still here, I always will be, and we will face it together, whatever it may be, if you will let me…" she said, pushing herself against him, into his arms, but he was like a mountain, immovable. "Tell me," she begged. "I want to understand. I need to… I need you…"

And then his hands were around her, wrapped around her back, and he was lifting her, moving her, still crushed against him, his lips suddenly, fiercely, pressed against hers as her bed moved underneath their combined weight, and she did not want to fight him, not Keith, not this, as he pressed the full length of his body on top of hers, her arms pinned immobile under him as he whispered fiercely against her lips, "I chose you, Allura. I chose this life over another I could have had, and I did it because of you…it's always been you, and I could have let her live again, but I didn't, I feel like I killed her, all over again, but there never was any choice, only the illusion of choice, because it's always been you…" his hands caught hers and moved them above her head, and she was pinned underneath him, unable to move, but she didn't want to move, because he was her Keith, and she had never seen this wild, passionate side of him, and even in his anger, she trusted him as she arched herself against him, returning his fierce, needy kisses, as he looked into her eyes, whispering hoarsely, "It's always been you, since before the stars were born," and he claimed her lips with his, fierce need replacing his black despair as he released her hands, his own hands entwining themselves in her hair, tracing the lines of her neck, the curve of her collar bone, watching her with a sudden slow wonder as he saw how she was responding to his touch, that she wasn't afraid of him, even with her nightgown sliced open between them from Lotor's knife…

Her own hands moved across his face, tracing his lips, catching his hand and moving it, slowly, down to her heart, to rest there while she lay underneath him, trusting him completely, reaching up to capture his lips between hers as she whispered simply, "Show me," as her hands pulled him against her again, tightly, skin to skin, never wanting to let him go….

And the castle alarms began shrieking at full blast.

They froze, and she watched his fierce, needy passion dissolve once more into rage, and she cried out in frustration as he punched the bed beside her so hard it shook the entire frame. When he looked at her again, once again in rigid control, he said, "I will. I'll show you, Princess mine," before he rolled off her, and, looking back where she lay, nightgown sliced clean through, he smiled the first genuine, though tense, smile she had seen since they left the desert. "Let's get this taken care of, love. _Fast_."

She sat up, her nightgown forgotten as she fixed him with a fierce, needy stare of her own. "Yes indeed, Commander mine, because you and I have unfinished business, and to borrow one of your Earth expressions, Planet Doom has just really, really pissed me off."

They were up and running for Castle Control, and she paused just long enough to grab a dressing gown, throwing it over herself as she ran, barefoot, down the corridors, Keith matching his pace to hers.


	25. Chapter 25: The Sun and the Storm

Author's note: Thanks be to everyone who's stayed with me on this project. I can't even name you all, or thank you properly, for your help, advice, and encouragement. I'm afraid I'll leave someone out, and that would not be fair, or nice. I'll just say thanks, again, and love to all of you who acted as midwives on this little labor of mine. There is, of course, **an adult situation following**, but any of you who don't know that by now haven't been keeping up.

Perhaps the most important warning: this chapter surprised me as much as anyone. I've never done anything like this before, written a piece of fanfiction, of this length or depth, and it's become a part of me as much as it has been an attempt at becoming a better writer. I'm shell-shocked, to be honest, by the entire thing, and thanks again to all of you for sticking with me.

I'll shut up now. Enjoy Chapter Twenty Five, and feel free to leave comments.

Playlist: One single song, Ryan Adams's romantic "When the Stars Go Blue."

And of course, all the standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Twenty-Five:

The Sun and the Storm

Castle Control was rapidly filling up with people as Keith and Allura reached it, running and out of breath. Koran sat at the main console, punching up diagnostics, Pidge hovering anxiously over his shoulder. Hunk was sleepily rubbing his eyes, wearing what were no doubt his pajamas. Charlotte was dressed in hastily thrown on clothing from Earth, her t-shirt on inside out and flopping loosely over her jeans. She was wearing tennis shoes with no socks, looking like any average teenager from Earth, but it was an image offset by her ever-present guards, fully dressed in black uniforms and carrying the same assault rifles that seemed to never leave their side. She was speaking rapidly into a comm. unit, and her tight little group hugged the back wall of Castle Control, as if trying to stay out of the way while remaining aware of the situation.

"Status report," Keith snapped as he and Allura skidded to a stop behind Koran. Pidge looked from Keith in his silky black pants to Allura in her hastily tied dressing gown, both of them barefoot with wild hair, and raised one eyebrow in spite of himself. Koran was too busy studying incoming readings and moving his fingers rapidly across a series of touch screens to take his eyes off what he was doing. "Pre-dawn attack, a massive one by the looks of things," Koran said, fingers flying across the screens. "Three massive command ships, sitting just outside the atmosphere, but they have yet to release anything- fighters, coffins, ground troops- all are possibilities, but as of now, we really have no idea…"

"They're just sitting there," Pidge confirmed, a note of frustration creeping into his voice. "And they're all heavily shielded, so I haven't been able to get any kind of readings…"

"We have to assume the worst, then," Keith said grimly, his muscular soldier's arms crossed across his bare chest. Allura couldn't help herself. She snuck a look at him; she had rarely seen him anything less than fully dressed, and she was shocked at the wave of fierce desire that rocked her, even though they stood in a room full of people as they prepared for what looked to be a fierce battle. She bit her lip. _Focus, Allura_, she ordered herself. Keith's wall of stormy black rage had slipped back into place. It would serve him well in battle, she knew, but she hoped it wasn't back for good. They had been so close…_Blast Planet Doom to ashes and back_, she thought, her own fury rising.

"There's more," she said as all eyes turned to her. If Koran hadn't noticed her state of undress, coupled with Keith's, he certainly did now, but the older man merely shook his head and turned back to his touch screens. "Lotor somehow managed to infiltrate the castle, my own bedroom, to be exact, without setting off a single alarm. He knows I'm piloting Blue Lion." Her voice climbed with rage and frustration. "I just woke up to the Prince of Doom holding a knife to my… throat… and if Keith hadn't been there…"

"Standing guard," he interrupted smoothly. _In my pajamas?_ He shook his head. It _had_ been what he was doing, or at least, that's what he told himself when he had headed to the princess's rooms, wandering the castle hallways in the grip of his black rage… they could believe it or not… That was when he noticed Lance wasn't among them. He frowned. The mind-block still in place had shut down mind-speech between the three of them… he'd have to ask Kiari about that…

Pidge turned white and started sputtering. "Impossible," he said. "I've checked and re-checked those systems…they're air-tight, even Cheddar could set them off, I know, I tried it…"

Keith fixed his youngest teammate with a glare that made Pidge turn even whiter, if that was possible. "You and I are going to have a serious conversation when this is over," he said.

"Magic," Kiari said, striding into Castle Control dressed in the full battle regalia of a desert warrior princess. Her heavy knee-high boots announced her presence before she reached the door. She had exchanged her flowing, shimmering dress for a skin-tight shirt and leggings of a non-descript brown, covered with a thigh-length leather tunic. Her hair was bound up and hidden behind a loose scarf wound around her head; she could easily wrap her face with the loose end of it that draped across her shoulder. She had armed herself, as well; two swords were strapped to her back, crossed over each other, the handles protruding like wings, and her chest was criss-crossed with leather straps holding lightweight throwing knives. She had blasters strapped to her waist, and her forearms were covered with from hand to elbow with flexible metal vambraces that had some kind of firing mechanism mounted to the wrists…. "It had to have been magic. Regular shields cannot protect against that." She smiled coldly. "But I can. Shields are my specialty, if you will recall. Perhaps, after today's festivities, your young teammate and I can have words."

"Well," Lance said dryly, entering Castle Control from another door, standing across from Kiari, taking in her appearance with a mixture of amusement and awe. "I certainly feel underdressed." He, like Keith, was wearing what appeared to be his pajamas, but in his case, that consisted of an old Academy t-shirt and boxer shorts with… _Are those cartoon characters?_ Allura wondered.

The ridiculousness of his appearance was more than compensated for by the black-clad figure he held before him. Lance had a blaster shoved right under the figure's jaw, pointing upward, while his other hand had twisted an arm upwards and behind the intruder's back. Lance had also managed to improvise a gag of what looked like a combination of the unfortunate spy's own belt and Lance's socks…

"I caught him sneaking around _Lady_ Kiari's bedroom while I was…uh… patrolling the, uh, halls?" Lance was aware of how his ridiculous his statement sounded when juxtaposed with his appearance, but it was true, sort of; unable to sleep, and filled with a sudden sense of _wrongness_, he had grabbed a weapon and slipped quietly through the shadows to the guest wing. His mother and baby sister were there, after all, as was Kiari… Then he saw Keith and Allura, standing together in a similar state of undress, and locked eyes with his commander. The wall of rage was still there. _Damn_, he thought. _If Allura in her nightgown can't snap him out of it, maybe I really will have to beat it out of him_… he felt only wicked amusement as he took in the two of them, Allura's face, at least, clueing him in to the fact that _something_ had gone on between the two of them. He felt a weight he hadn't known he was carrying fall off him as he grinned hugely at them, more amused and curious than anything else. He had been afraid he wouldn't be able to handle it, that the bond between them might snap, but he knew, as he looked at Allura, beautiful in her bare feet and messy hair, that it would be all right, they would sort it out, somehow…

"Allura woke up to Prince Lotor holding her under a knife," Keith informed him coldly. "I took care of it, but I would love to know who this is that's been sneaking around the castle on the same night the Prince of Doom managed to breach our security." He threw Pidge another significant look, who looked back at him with a rare rage of his own.

Lance might have collapsed with some mixture of fear, and relief, had he not been holding said intruder at blaster point. So they had been together, or at least, Keith had been near enough to her when Lotor showed up. _Thank God. More trouble than any other woman in the galaxy,_ he thought again.

Kiari watched carefully as the three of them, Keith, Lance, and Allura, exchanged loaded glances. The others in the room seemed oblivious, but she alone, possessing some of the same powers of the mind she had blocked from the princess, could see the ties that bound them together, and it more than aroused her curiosity. Her own tribe had a tradition of multiple wives, although the practice had fallen out of favor in the years prior to Zarkon's attacks. However, since so many young men had fallen during the decade since the attacks had begun, the practice was becoming more and more commonplace amongst her people once again. Saran, for instance, had three wives; he had added two young mothers to his household after their husbands had been killed during a Robeast attack. Far from being jealous, his own first wife had brought the young women into their household, and Saran was as much a father to the small children his new wives brought with them as he was to the newest arrival, his infant daughter by his second wife, tiny Zharka, who was already the most spoiled baby ever. Zharka had probably never been set down in her life; there was always a pair of hands to hold her, in Saran's expanded household.

She was familiar, even comfortable, with the concept of sharing partnerships and affections. But this… this was something different. There was literal silver _cord_ binding them, and ties could strangle as well as bind… She would watch these three, carefully… but in the meantime…

"Saran, it was quite rude of you to frighten our guests by allowing yourself to be captured," she said, arms crossed angrily in front of her. "Lance?" she turned to him expectantly.

"Oh, _hell," _he swore, and released his prisoner_._ Saran shook his twisted arm vigorously and immediately removed his gag, handing Lance back his socks with obvious distaste.

"Excuse me," Charlotte said, clearly but a bit tentatively from the back of the room. "If I may interrupt, what are those on your arms?"

"Vambraces," Kiari told the intently interested young woman. "Arm guards." Charlotte nodded. She knew what vambraces were, but these were most curiously modified. "They shoot fire," Kiari clarified smugly. Charlotte's eyebrows shot up. "I can give you a pair of your own, if you would like," she added, at Charlotte's eager nod of interest.

"That was _most_ undignified," Saran said severely. The desert warrior looked at Keith. "Although I did tell you, sword-bearer, that your own people would be no less protective of your own princess, on your own ground…"

Before Keith could respond, Koran announced loudly, "The command ships are spreading out," he said, frustration and dread clear in his voice.

Keith closed his eyes, searching for that calm center he had always been able to access in battle, that had always allowed him to make rational, calm decisions, to see the whole picture, but it wouldn't come. He was still too consumed with rage and hatred and hurt. _It will have to do_, he thought, opening his eyes. _I want nothing more than to have something to kill, and Planet Doom has certainly provided that…_

"Six Clans have gathered in the blasted lands to the west of the castle," Saran said. "That is what I came to tell my Lady. We brought three hundred mounted warriors."

"Horses?" Keith asked, his voice flat.

"Carrying warriors," Kiari corrected, stepping forward. "We have survived Zarkon's attacks by confusing the Hell-Beasts, our riders distracting and wounding them, when we could, from the ground, allowing our people to escape. We are a good distraction for them, if you so want us. We do not engage them, but we will, if you so order. Too many have died trying. Ground troops, however, are a different story." She exchanged grim looks with Saran. "Those we are all too familiar with, and those we can fight. We are also the only ones among you currently able to fend off any kind of magical assault, until the princess can get to the Water tribes. Do you have orders for us, or shall I tell my warriors to sit on their mounts and find a good place to watch?"

_Sarcasm must be a Fire thing_, he thought, glancing at Lance standing there in his boxer shorts. "Surround the castle," he said sharply, "and don't let anything through. But concentrate the bulk of your forces on any transport that lands. Wipe them out. And you'll need comm. units." She nodded as Pidge loaded her up with several before stalking away with Saran at her heels.

"We have only one squadron, Commander," solemn young Charlotte said, stepping forward as the Fire warriors departed. "But it is our best, most cutting edge technology, and it will be nothing Zarkon's forces will ever have seen before. Do you have orders for us, as well?" she asked. She was an exact, but younger, and much more serious copy of his hot-tempered second-in-command. Her intense demeanor was unsettling.

"What can they do?" he asked impatiently.

She smiled slightly then, and he caught a hint of her brother's fire as she answered eagerly. "We have one command unit and two wings of our best, the L-22 Firestorm. They employ our most advanced weapons; most notably a set of rail guns that deploy depleted uranium slugs with trillium casings. Upon impact, the slugs begin to break the target down at the molecular level, affecting increasingly larger areas as it moves outward in a sphere shape, according to a trillium-enabled modification of the Lorentz principle," she said proudly. "The L-22 also has a cloaking system that utilizes cohesive molecular disintegration technology, allowing the fighter to deploy weaponry in focused, timed bursts while remaining cloaked and shielded at every other moment. It enables the fighter to effectively disappear, both from sensors and the naked eye, until and unless it chooses to reveal itself or when it fires." She was actually blushing with pride, Keith noticed, or perhaps it was the way Pidge was gaping at her as she spoke. Lance looked misty-eyed.

"No one else has even seen this technology. It has been test-flown, of course, and even flown in mock-battles, with great success, but we have not had a chance to use it live, and I am most eager to try it out," she said, looking at Keith hopefully, as if asking if she could keep some puppy she had found. "Of course, we also brought two wings of more standard fighters, the L-18 Firestorm and the V-5 Phoenix, but I'm sure you're familiar with what those can do," she said. Keith was. Vaguely. Galaxy Garrison had a few squadrons of them reserved for their most elite forces, deployed in the most strategically important battles…

"Um, right," he said. "Pidge?"

Pidge looked red-faced and out of breath as he broke his gaze from Charlotte. "She's saying that over half her squadron can _erase_ the enemy from the inside out, and it can _disappear_ at the same time. Is that about right?" he asked Charlotte, adjusting his glasses nervously. She nodded. "We're working to adapt some of it to fit the Lions," he added, dreamily.

"Commander," Koran interrupted, urgently. "The command ships are all releasing fighters, squadrons of them…" he frowned at the console. "At least one transport, no doubt carrying ground troops. And coffins." His voice was grim. "Three of them."

"Right," Keith said, attack formations dancing through his head. "Well, if your pilots have no problems following _my_ orders, let's get them up in the air." Charlotte once again nodded a solemn affirmative.

"The shelters," Lance said to her. "But Med Center may be better, with Mother, it's pretty heavily shielded…" he said, locking eyes with his sister.

"Yes, I had thought Dr. Gorma might be a better option," she said softly, regretfully. She pulled out her comm. unit. "Guardian One, take the Lady Vivienne to Med Center with a full escort. Stay with her at all times until you hear back from me. We are in full combat protocol."

"Copy, Command One."

"So I guess you're going to the shelters, then?" Lance said, with a rising sense of dread.

She looked at her brother, surprised. "Of course not, Lance." One of her guards handed her a helmet and draped a jet-black flight suit over her arm. "Just who do you think is in command here?" she asked, as Lance looked both strangely proud and ready to explode.

"Hell no!" he yelled. "Charlotte! You're sixteen! You're my _little sister_…"

She pulled her flight suit on right over her jeans and t-shirt as she stood there in Castle Control, nonplussed as he fussed at her. "And you stole your first experimental fighter at what, age twelve?" She zipped her jacket up to her neck. "Ok, ok, you _borrowed_ it. I've been _formally_ training since I was ten, Lance."

"We've got coffins on the ground," Koran warned.

"See you in the air, brother mine," she said, blowing him a kiss as she exited Castle Control in the middle of her guards.

Pidge stared after her with a goofy smile on his face. Lance smacked him. "What the hell are you looking at?" he demanded.

"Particle physics," the Green Lion pilot sighed. Lance shook his head.

"I want the Lions in the air five minutes ago," Keith said to his team as they ran for the tunnels, marveling that they finally had the beginnings of something like an army on Arus.

VVVVV

Keith looked out over the scene developing beneath him. It was by far the largest attack Planet Doom had launched against them. He was also in charge of more resources than he ever had been before. _This should be interesting_, he thought, taking in the Doom fighters launching from the command ships by the hundreds, while two transport ships landed on both the west and east sides of the castle. And the Robeasts… _three_ of them…

"Listen up, team," he said, over the comm. unit. "Those command ships seem content to sit there and throw things at us from us a distance right now. Let them. We're going to have our hands full for the next little bit, but once we destroy what they've thrown at us, we're going after the command ships, too. Zero tolerance today, guys." His fingers were white as they gripped Black Lion's controls. He had managed to control his voice, but the rest of him was quaking with rage, remembering Lotor _in her bed_, holding her under a knife... Planet Doom would not forget this day, no matter what it tried to throw at them.

"I'm grouping Doom's forces into five main areas of concern," he continued, as the rest of the Lions maintained a standard V formation behind him. "Fighters, ground troops, and Robeasts. I want us to spread out so we can get a sense of what we're up against. Lance, I want you up there cleaning out those enemy fighters. Charlotte, I want your squadron up there with him. You will answer directly to him, until I command otherwise, it that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Charlotte responded immediately.

_Thank God,_ Lance almost said, but limited himself to a terse, "Got it, Keith," before breaking formation in his customary whoop of flames and smoke. "Think you can keep up, little sister?" he asked, Red Lion easily flying loops around her tightly grouped formation of fighters.

Charlotte couldn't help it; she grinned at her brother's antics. "Only if you can handle being serious for once," she laughed.

"Allura, I want you on the ground," he said. "Help Kiari's forces wipe out those ground troops." Blue swooped down to join the mounted fighters on the ground.

"Kiari, I need you to be able to move quickly, in a small group, in case these Robeasts are packing any magical surprises. Will you be able to shield us?"

"I believe so, Commander," she replied.

"Allura, you'll break from the ground troops and cover her, if that's the case."

"Got it," she replied.

"Pidge, Hunk and I are going to check out those coffins. Usual protocol. Try to get a sense of what it is, and do as much damage as possible while you're at it." Keith surveyed the coffin craft grimly.

Lance wasted no time burning his way through the Doom ships. "Stay in formation for now, until I get sense of what…" he trailed off as a group of six Drule fighters flew straight for him, three from each side. He maintained his position, slowing his speed, hoping they'd fall for it… "Of what they've got," he said, pulling up at the last possible moment as three of the six flew straight into each other. He pulled his Lion around on the other three in a tight leap, burning them with torches and torpedoes.

"Not too bright, are they?" Charlotte observed wryly. "Lance, we've got trouble coming up on our rear. Orders, oh fearless leader?" She sounded way too nonchalant for his comfort zone. She sounded, in fact, a bit like himself…

"Just blow the hell out of them, Charlotte," he said, with a sigh. "I'll take the ones from the middle command ship, that'll split their forces, but that means splitting yours too. Can you handle it? Oh, and I want audio at all times…"

"Lance, you're starting to embarrass me," she said in that calm, focused way she had. "Alpha and Gamma Wings, take out the Drule from the far ship. You're with Command Two. Beta and Theta, you're with me." Lance watched as his sister's forces split neatly down the middle, peeling off to their assigned target areas, Charlotte herself leading as six fighters, three of them the sleek and pretty L-22 Firestorms, the other three L-18s, followed behind her in standard V formation. "Theta Wing, flank as far left as possible and work your way in. Alpha Wing," Lance heard the mile-wide grin in her voice, "Let's erase a little bit of the Drule Empire, shall we?" Her own sleek fighter, along with the three following her, blinked completely out of view.

Lance choked back his panicked yell as she disappeared. "Don't worry, brother mine. We're still here," she said. "Just look for the weird explosions; that's us," she assured him smugly. Red Lion was burning its way through rows of oncoming Drule; he had lost count at this point as he steadily whittled down the middle formations, torches and torpedoes blazing, claws and jaws coming out for the really close moments. Red liked those, shooting out puffs of smoke approvingly as he pounced on top of a Drule fighter and, lifting it out of formation, flung it into those following it like a bowling ball hitting rows of pins.

But his attention was diverted as he heard his sister's next orders. "A-1, 2, and 3, lock on targets… let's start easy… three each…ready… fire," and watched in amazement as the hulls of twelve Drule fighters punctured with what appeared to be a single, tiny hole; the four L-22s reappeared as the slugs made contact and banked sharply upward. "We have contact," Charlotte said. "Be advised." Lance watched as the twelve Drule fighters started to shake all over, expanded momentarily outward as if pushed from within by a giant sphere, and then began to collapse in on themselves exactly as if being sucked up with a straw. He watched as the fighters drew inward into a shrinking, crunching sphere of disappearing metal until there was nothing left.

"Holy cats," he swore, reverently.

"Hell yes! Hell yes!" Charlotte screamed, her excitement almost bursting his eardrums. "Command Two, report!"

"Worked like a charm, Command One."

"Damn fine work. Separate out, Alpha and Beta Wings, and let's see how many we can get," she crowed. "Lance? What do you think?"

"Uhhh," he said, stymied. "Good job?" He shook his head. "Keith, did you see that?"

"Vaguely," his commander shot back. "I'm a little busy right now, Lance."

"I did," Pidge said. His voice still had that dreamy quality to it. "Particle physics…"

"Nobody asked you, squirt," Lance retorted.

Keith was working his way around the middle coffin, dismayed to see that this was a new kind as countless tentacles came creeping out over the edge of the opening coffin. He started in on them with his Lion blades extended, slicing through tentacles the width of his Lion's paw, which dropped to the ground and thrashed unpleasantly, oozing thick green blood. "Hunk, Pidge, what are we dealing with?" he asked as he concentrated grimly on his task.

"Oddly enough, this one's green, Keith, like me, but it seems pretty normal so far- four arms and two legs, from what I can tell, and scales," Pidge said, moving his Lion around the emerging Robeast while he blasted it with laser fire and torpedoes.

"The same here, actually, Keith, color, limbs, everything. Might be that they sent two of the same. Not very imaginative," Hunk said, slicing and biting.

"Allura, how's the ground game?" he asked, unsettled by the Robeast in front of him. If it was magical, he wanted Kiari to be able to get a shield up as fast as possible.

"Good and bad, Keith," she replied. "We're making good progress, but Zarkon didn't send robots this time."

Keith swore. "How are we holding up?"

"Very well, Commander," Kiari cut in. "My warriors are very grateful for the chance to spill Doom blood. It discharges our debt to our slaughtered loved ones in a way that crunched up metal does not."

"I see," he said, taken aback. "Kiari, can you break away if needed? This middle Robeast has me a little worried…"

"Of course," she said. "I will follow Blue Lion, on your command, but I sense no dark magic yet."

"This one's weird, guys. Everyone, be advised. This Robeast in the middle is different…tentacles…"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the middle Robeast exploded upwards out of its coffin, and suddenly Black Lion was caught in its grip, tentacles surrounding Keith like cables, pulling on him more and more tightly.

"It flies," he cried out, and cried out again, in pain, this time, as the tentacles glowed a crackling blue and sent volts of electricity around and through Black Lion. He clawed desperately at them, but Black Lion was caught…

At the same time, the two green Robeasts were up and swinging at Hunk and Pidge, who were managing to avoid the four-fisted punches with some feline leaps and twists, letting loose with cannon and laser fire, but they couldn't disengage…

"_Lance_," Keith managed to gasp, but the Red Lion pilot had already left the aerial firefight and was burning away at the squid-shaped Robeast's face. Allura appeared with Lion blades extended, but as she flew around Keith, attempting to cut through the cables that held him, she also was grabbed into its electric embrace, screaming out as electricity fried its way through Blue Lion. The squid-looking creature soared upward into the aerial firefight as Lance tried burning, blasting, and firing everything he had at it. Pidge and Hunk were left on the ground with the green Robeasts, fending for themselves for the moment.

"Nobody touch it!" Lance yelled. Keith and Allura were still screaming. "Charlotte! Can you hit it with your magic bullets?"

"Move out of the way, big brother," she said, appearing at his three from nowhere. The squid was suddenly ringed by L-22 Firestorm fighters who had appeared seemingly from the ether. The squid-beast roared and thrashed in surprise, but did not release Black or Blue Lions, who were being shaken around like toys. Neither Keith nor Allura were responding. "You heard him, people! Fire only at the head, one slug each, on my mark. Lance, you have got to be ready to grab them the instant this thing starts to implode. I don't know how it's going to go out. If it doesn't drop them on its own, there's a chance they could be sucked in with it… do you want us to proceed?"

Lance swore colorfully. "Kiari, you said your fighters were good Robeast distractions."

"True enough, Lance," she replied. "We have destroyed many of the Doom soldiers, with few losses on our side, and your princess did an impressive job rendering their transports into piles of scrap. There are a few who have surrendered and are being held now. We are ready for further orders," she said grimly, sounding nothing like the young woman who had laughed and joked with Allura only recently.

"You're going to have to run interference on those two green Robeasts. Hunk and Pidge, I need you up here NOW. Be ready to grab onto Black and Blue Lions on my signal, but do not, I repeat, do not, touch one of tentacles if it can be helped. Ok Charlotte, give it what you've got."

"Fire," she echoed her brother.

At first, the squid-beast merely looked annoyed as it was hit with eight tiny slugs, swatting at them like mosquitoes as they drove themselves into its skin. And then, it started to thrash, its movements growing wilder as it began to glow. Its head began to swell, its skin stretching and tearing, strips of flesh tearing off in some places. Then it began to collapse inward, the broken pieces of its flesh compressing, letting out an eerie screeching sound like nails on a chalkboard as it began to be sucked more and more rapidly into nothingness.

Its tentacles followed last. Keith and Allura were simply tangled up in them now; no more electricity flowed through them. _Thank God,_ Lance thought. "It's safe to cut them through," he said, already slicing tentacles with his Lion blades. "Hunk and Pidge, be ready to try and grab them if we need to break their fall." He cut through the last of the tentacles as two things happened at once: the squid-beast collapsed completely in on itself, the last of its severed tentacles disappearing with a flash of light, and Blue and Black Lions plummeted to the ground. Pidge and Hunk were after them immediately, Pidge grabbing Allura, Hunk catching Keith, each by a back leg, but all they could hope to do was slow their descent… "Thrust backward," Lance shouted, adding his Lion's bite to Black Lion's other leg. Black was biggest and heaviest and would be the hardest to cushion. "Keith! Allura! Come in!" He yelled furiously, pulling back with his thrusters as Pidge and Hunk did the same. "Black and Blue Lions, do you read me?"

They hit the ground, all five of them, locked in a furious tug backwards, less than a mile from where Kiari and her mounted warriors were doing an impressive dance between and around the two Robeasts; a tight group of riders encircled each Robeast, shadowing each movement it made, but within that group, smaller groups of riders attacked the creature's feet, pulling swords crossed like wings off their backs to slash and hack at it while others burned it. The Robeasts were thoroughly enraged but were unable to reach the rapidly moving riders with their fists, and Kiari's warriors were much too agile to be threatened by their feet.

"We need to form Voltron," Keith said, groggily, over the comm. system.

"Keith! Thank God! Are you all right?" Lance asked, worriedly. _Now, if only Allura would respond…_

"Ummm," Allura mumbled from Blue Lion.

"Allura!" Lance crowed. "You guys scared the hell out of me!"

"What happened?" she asked, as groggily as Keith.

"We've got two ugly green guys to take care of still," Lance said, "And a few more little gifts from Doom."

"Are we ready to form the big guy?" Keith asked, shaking off the fog of pain. "I am seriously pissed." As his teammates cried out their assent, Allura still sounding a little sleepy, they began their upward climb to form the giant robot defender. Keith called out the familiar commands:

"_Activate interlocks! _

_Dyna-therms connected. _

_Infra-cells up; _

_Mega-thrusters are go! _

_Form feet and legs; _

_Form arms and body; _

_And I'll form… the head!"_

Charlotte watched from her uncloaked fighter as the individual Lions shape shifted into the interlocking units that latched onto Black Lion to form the most impressive weapon she had ever seen. It _was_ a weapon, she had to remind herself, as she was almost certain she saw the giant robot wink at her… was that possible?

"Kiari, you'd better fall back," Keith warned as Voltron touched down in front of the two angry green Robeasts.

"Copy that, Keith," she said. "And I am still not picking up any dark magic," she added.

"Thank the goddess for small favors," Allura said, sounding more alert.

"Can I punch one in the face?" Lance begged. "Since Zarkon's not around?"

"Be my guest," Keith said, grateful for his second-in-command's gift of humor. The giant robot rounded on the nearest Robeast and swung directly at its surprised face. "And now, for a surprise left hook," Keith added, as Voltron's other fist hit it again.

"That was fun," Lance said happily.

The other identical Robeast, with a groan of rage, launched itself at Voltron's back, grabbing onto the giant robot from behind. The Robeast clung tenaciously, and Voltron had another angry Robeast staring it in the face…

"Form Blazing Axe!" Keith commanded, as they were assaulted from both front and back. The glowing weapon formed between Voltron's giant robot hands, and Keith clarified by explaining, "We've got to hit it behind us, and the Axe can do some damage better swung blindly than the sword can…" Voltron swung the Axe over its left shoulder, connecting with Robeast flesh, and then hit it again, before the Robeast, with a bellow, backed off and away.

"Command One, this is Theta One," an L-18 pilot broke in over Charlotte's comm. system. "Be advised, all Drule fighters are pulling back to the command ships. Do you have any orders?"

"Lance, Keith, I hate to interrupt you guys, but you did say zero tolerance…" Charlotte said, as the mighty robot defender grappled with two identical Robeasts. "It looks like the command ships are preparing to pull out…permission to engage?"

"Electroforce Cross!" Keith yelled as the first Robeast approached Voltron, all four fists swinging.

Lance sighed. "How about, permission to harass and annoy? I don't want you engaging them directly, but if you can slip around them, cloaked, and cause some damage, go ahead. We'll join you as soon as we can…"

The fighters disappeared without a trace, except for Charlotte's voice over the comm. system. "All Wings, stealth mode. Theta and Gamma, you're with me on the middle one. Alpha, Beta, take your pick, respectively." Explosions rocked the command ships almost instantly, while Voltron fought the two Robeasts. The giant robot ran at one of them, Axe held high, and chopped at it, removing two of its arms with one blow.

"Two down, six more arms to go," Allura chimed in.

"We've tinkered with some of the weapons, Keith," Pidge began.

"Yeah, for more of a long-range situation, the Lion Wing attack has a boomerang effect…" Hunk added.

"Great idea, guys," Keith said, relieved. "I'm getting seriously sick of the gruesome twosome here." Still gripping his Battle Axe, Voltron reached up and pulled… and Keith found himself staring at the robot's giant red wings. "Lion Wings!" he called out, flinging them at the second Robeast, the one that had clung to Voltron's back, and already had Axe wounds… the Lion Wings sliced clean through the Robeast's chest diagonally before returning to the robot's hands, dripping gore. The Robeast looked down at itself, as if surprised, before collapsing with a strangled cry.

"Effective, yet disgusting," Lance said. "I like it."

"Finish it," Keith said, charging the remaining Robeast with the Battle Axe held high overhead. The Axe came down directly on top of the Robeast's head and cut through to its chest, flesh separating as Voltron pulled the Axe out of the sinking, screaming mess of Robeast.

"It never gets any prettier, does it?" Allura sighed.

"Well, if we can modify those rail guns of your sister's, Lance, then it would be a whole lot less messy…" Pidge added, excited. "Speaking of which…"

"Charlotte, report!" Lance barked.

"The returning fighters are trying to engage us, Lance, but we keep slipping away. We've made some nice holes in each command ship, and they're trying to return fire, but we keep blinking out, and they've taken out a number of their own…" she broke off as Lance heard explosions in the background. "Pull back!" he heard her yelling. "Everybody! Pull back!"

"Charlotte!" he yelled, but as he looked up, he saw two of the command ships explode, flames and giant pieces of debris flying everywhere. "What's happening?"

"Let's separate out, guys, just in case…" Keith said, the Lions moving smoothly apart.

Red and Green Lions pulled upward, fast, to find two of the command ships completely destroyed, with the third one moving rapidly away from the battle scene. Lance breathed a prayer of thanks, his first in many years, when his sister started barking at her team. "Exit stealth mode, people, and report," she said, listening grimly as her fighters checked in.

"What was that?" Lance asked.

"It looked like a normal explosion, Lance," Pidge said. "Keith, the third command ship is pulling out of range. Please advise."

After a long pause, Keith answered. "Let them go. Leave some eyewitnesses for Zarkon."

"We've lost two fighters," Charlotte broke in, her voice stretched taut with grief and disbelief. "Those explosions were triggered by a self-destruct sequence. Doom switched from trying to attack us to trying to take some of us with them when they went." Her voice was heavy. "They had two of my L-22s in some kind of… force field? Tractor beam? But that can't be right… they're designed to withstand that… the cohesive molecular disintegration disrupts any kind of tractor beam…" she trailed off.

"Self-destruct?" Lance prompted, alarmed at her reaction.

"We can't take the chance of that kind of technology getting captured and copied. Our pilots would have waited until the last possible moment, when they were closest to the ships and could do the most damage, and then…" when he heard the tears behind her words, he cut her off.

"I think we can return to the castle now, Charlotte. Keith, what do you think?"

"Affirmative, Lance. We just fought one hell of a battle, people, and won. With Lotor injured, and Zarkon out three Robeasts, squadrons of fighters, two command ships, and hundreds of Drule soldiers, I think we may have just bought ourselves some breathing room. Let's go home." _And I know just what to do with mine,_ he thought, watching Blue Lion as it flew steadily behind him. As he looked around him, the sheer enormity of the battle they had just fought hit him. They had just engaged a massive assault from Zarkon, and had won with minimal losses. _A long way_, he thought, remembering the ragged group of misfits he'd dragged across the desert so many months ago. _A very long way since then, indeed._

VVVVV

Allura strode quickly through the tunnel from her Lion, wondering what was wrong with her. She felt shaky, literally; her hands had trembled as she had removed her helmet, and her legs felt wobbly as she strode purposefully towards Castle Control. Her breathing was coming in short, forceful bursts, and her face was flushed, she knew. But it wasn't from fear. She knew fear, had felt it when the Robeast had Keith wrapped up in its tentacles, shocking him; had felt it when Lance had been unable to get a response from his sister after the command ships exploded; had felt it when Lotor hissed into her ear, cutting her nightgown from her body… This feeling she had now was like fear, but it was something else, too. It was also adrenaline and an acute awareness of how precious life was, that they had just come close to losing theirs, her teammates and herself; any one of them could have been killed, just as some of their allies had been… Her nerve endings sang with a kind of grateful desperation, glad to be alive, but tense with the awareness that life was so, so fragile, and much too precious to waste time waiting… she _wanted_… something, she didn't know what…

She was almost out of her tunnel, but not quite, when he strode up to her, and, without saying a word, slammed her into the wall of the tunnel and began kissing her forcefully, his eyes on fire, his hands on her shoulders gripping her fiercely, his mouth moving over hers as if they did not need air, only the fire between them… and she recognized the feeling she had been unable to name, as pure, raw need bloomed within her, and her arms came up around his sides, pressing herself against him, kissing him fiercely, aware that she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help herself, and neither could he, because there was love as well as need, as she pressed herself more forcefully against him….

And then he…stopped.

His hands were on her shoulders, still, pinning her against the tunnel wall. He had moved his body carefully back from hers so that no direct contact was possible between the two of them, and his face was inches from hers, flushed and breathing heavily, as she was, but disengaged nonetheless.

"This," he told her firmly, "is a common after effect of the heat of battle. It triggers this kind of fierce need, this desire…" She whimpered, frustrated, but he held her firmly away from him.

"That's not all this is," she insisted, whispering, her eyes huge as she stared at him.

"Princess, you have to go to him," he told her, his blue eyes fierce and fiery. "You are the only one who can reach him, and if you don't, his rage will eat him alive. He's in Black Lion still, waiting, trying to get control of himself so he doesn't kill the first person he sees, and _you have to go to him_. _You are the only one who can reach him, the only one who can help him._"

She felt her own rage bloom within her, and she hissed back at him, "How can you do this, Lance McClain? How can you let me go, after…" she stomped her foot in frustration. "After whatever the _hell_ this is?"

"You would never do it on your own," he said, "And neither would he. And he needs you. The both of you need each other. And for the first time, maybe ever in my life, Allura, I care about two other people more than I care about myself." He stepped back away, freeing her, his face the strangest mixture of desire, determination, and…despair? She couldn't put a name to it, the emotion that lay buried on his face. "This is maybe the hardest thing I have ever done," he whispered. The air between them still crackled with tension and desire and need. "I won't pretend to understand it, or that it doesn't hurt, or that I don't feel this," he waved his hand, frustrated, through the crackling air, "_Whatever_ the hell it is. But," and, tensing himself with determination, he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him, out of the tunnel, practically running with her to the tunnel to Black Lion. "If you don't go to him, he'll self-destruct, I know he will, and you know it too."

He looked at her, fiercely determined, as he gave her a gentle shove towards the tunnel to the Black Lion, and to Keith. "I'm not going with you, when you go to the Water tribes. He needs the healing, and he needs you, and I love the two of you too much…" His voice choked up with pent-up emotion even as his eyes filled with tears. She felt part of her heart break; for him, for herself, for the three of them. "Go," he whispered hoarsely. "Don't make me regret doing this." And, as he pushed her towards the Black Lion and Keith once more, he turned his back on her and walked away.

She watched his retreating form for a little while, for forever and a single second, all at once, shell-shocked. And then, still needing, still wanting, still full of rage, she ran through the tunnel and into Black Lion, where he stood waiting, his back to her, holding himself, white-knuckled over the console. When he turned to her, his hands were clenched into the ever-present fists, and his eyes were flat and unreachable once more, and she felt white-hot rage bloom within her, that he was still locked inside himself, after all this, after everything, and she threw herself against him, wanting to hit him, wanting to scream, wanting to feel his arms around her, once again, but he was a wall of solid stone as he said her name, low and flat.

"Allura, no," he choked out, trying to control himself, to hold back the rage, the need, because he didn't want to hurt her, not physically, not emotionally, not ever, and he wasn't good at loving, he didn't know how, it always turned out wrong…

She fixed him with the fiercest look, a killing look, a devouring look, and she said, low and dangerous, "Shut up, Keith Kogane. Shut. Up. This is not just about _you_, and it ends _now_," she said, and she was on him, crying, kissing him, wrapping her hands in his hair, and he was kissing her back, fierce and needy, and she felt it then, the force of his rage, the depth of his passion, and she knew fear as she felt herself drowning in it, but it was too late, for either of them, as he grabbed her up against him, moving them both in one fluid motion, kissing, pulling at each other, as the floor of Black Lion met their fall. "No more waiting, I've been waiting, since the stars were born," she gasped, as his teeth found her neck, marking her as his with a low growl.

She cried out but didn't pull away, not from Keith, her fierce black lion, her arms clutching him to her desperately as he covered her mouth with his once more, and all she could do was hold on as he raged against her with every part of himself, and she was no longer sure where she ended and he began…

His comm. unit beeped suddenly, and he pulled away from her slightly, taking in her swollen lips, her bright eyes and dilated pupils, the bite mark on her flawless, pale neck, _his_ bite, and his eyes widened with awe and shock, that she was still there, that she held on to him, desperately, her eyes filling with fear at the interruption, begging him, "No, Keith, stay, please, stay with me," as his comm. unit beeped again and again.

He forced himself to calmness, but his eyes never left her as he activated the infernally annoying device and answered huskily, "Kogane here."

"Commander, we have an incoming transmission from Planet Doom, from Prince Lotor himself," Koran said urgently.

He smiled at her, at her obvious fear that he might leave her, and his smile for her felt like the soft glow of sunlight peeking through an endless day of gray rain, shining and warming just for her, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck, he knew he could be gentle with her once more, that they had weathered the storm of his darkest night, and as he leaned down to kiss her, her golden hair spread out around her like rays of the sun, they laughed at each other, because they knew they had forever, but forever started now, started here…

"Commander?" Koran said, impatiently. "What should I tell Planet Doom?"

Keith pulled out his comm. unit, grinning at her like an idiot as she rested underneath him, safe in his arms, his heart finding safe harbor, at last, above her, and he said, "Tell Planet Doom to go to hell, please, Koran. I'm busy at the moment." And before the diplomat could get out a word of protest, Keith took the comm. unit and smashed it against the floor.


	26. Chapter 26:A Queen, a King, and a Knight

Author's note: A literature teacher of mine once told me that when stories started with a wedding, they inevitably ended in tragedy, because there was nowhere to go but down. But when stories began with a tragedy, she told us, be prepared for a happy ending, because there was nowhere to go but up.

I'm not saying I've stuck to this formula, exactly, or that it's even right, but I did kind of come at this thing backwards. But for a learning experience and my first piece of fanfiction, I can truthfully say I've learned a lot. I've learned some things to do again, when I write my next piece, and some things to never do again, and some other things that don't matter one way or the other. I've learned you can't please everyone. I've learned about community. I've learned that when your story is finished, it will tell you so, and you should respect that, and write "The End," and although it's sad and dizzying and you wish you had done things differently in some places, and you may even keep hacking at the keys, trying to tease the story out longer, it's time to move on to other pieces, other corners of the sandbox. And so that, my friends, is what I've had to do. This is more of an epilogue than a proper chapter. Keith and Allura meant it when they said they were busy last chapter, and I've got to respect that. It's a good place to leave them, together in Black Lion, telling everyone to leave them the hell alone. I'll respect that, for now, but only because I intend to follow them a little further, and report back…with another rating, and therefore, more freedom.

So since I'm doing this backwards, I would like to thank everyone who has been with me on this project. If I forget to mention you, I'm sorry; I plead brain damage, because, after all, I've cranked this sucker out in six weeks. 125,000 plus words in six weeks. That's around 500 pages, according to some publisher's guidelines I've been able to find. And none of it would have been possible without:

My fabulous little devils, Xia Cheyenne, Mertz, cms, wade wells, thanks for everything! Star Duchess, the omniscient Rocky Oberlin, Allura Blue, kitten 4979, otla 13, ruttan, peacock feather, Back Row Fan, Kitty Lynne, Harmony Winters, unbuckled, Lady Alkina, and Ms. Mara Jade, who made me want to try my own hand at writing a fanfic after I read hers, and finally, to Heart of Demons, the best weapons expert a grown woman who still watches cartoons could ever hope for. Thanks, all of you. Much love for all your help, advice, criticism, jokes, devilishness, and just plain old-fashioned fun.

And finally, to my friend Liz, who is maybe the only person to "get it," when she said, "You wrote _what?_" and took me to the lake to celebrate, and to Grace and Max, for listening and begging me for the next chapter at bedtime. But most important of all, to anyone who has ever stood in a bookstore, slightly dazed, and left empty handed because there was nothing there you wanted to read.

Playlist: Iron & Wine, their album "Around the Well," especially the song "Belated Promise Ring."

And of course, all the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.

Chapter Twenty-Six:

A Queen, a King, and a Knight

…Approximately One Year Later…

Pidge watched her from the shadows of the great, sprawling limbs of the oak tree. Keith had sent for an entire shipment of green, growing things for Allura as an engagement present, and Lance had insisted on digging the huge artificial lake that hugged the fledgling forest. It had become a popular spot with all of them. They had lots of picnics and swimming parties and barbeques. He smiled. Swimsuits had finally made their way to Arus, courtesy, of course, of Lance. Pidge had even idly wondered if that was the _real_ reason Lance wanted the lake so badly…He grinned, remembering the famous reaction Keith had when he first saw Allura in her pink bikini… Good thing the lake wasn't _that_ deep. It had been his own idea to stock it with fish, and he liked to spend his rare free moments here when he could, fishing meditatively and throwing back whatever he caught.

Charlotte had beaten him there, this morning. Her straight reddish-brown hair, almost the exact shade as her brother's, hung sleek and shiny down her back. But where Lance's was wild and messy, hers was tidy; they were like that, almost exact opposites of one another at the same time that they looked almost exactly alike. Their blue eyes, again almost the exact same shade, were polar opposites; Lance's sparked fire and impatience, and hers were solemn and deep, as if she was always thinking, always figuring things out. He liked that about her. She gravitated toward the water, as he did, and he noticed that she often slipped out here, to sit by the lake under the shade of the tree. Her ever-present guards were letting up a bit, and usually, these days, there were only one or two with her, and they pretty much stayed far back from her, giving her plenty of breathing room. Her guards had intimidated him when she first arrived, but then, Arus had been a different place, a literal war zone, in every sense of the word.

Arus was safer these days. And there were plenty of safe, green places to sit and think, even dream, if one was so inclined.

He saw her mother, the Lady Vivienne, walking on Koran's arm on the far shore of the lake. Lance's mother seemed to be doing better these days, and she could often be found in the diplomat's company, laughing, or speaking to him in her low, musical voice. Lance's mother and sister seemed to be on Arus more often than not lately. They returned to Earth to conduct some of the routine business associated with running the family company, including arranging for larger transports of building materials, machinery, and the weaponry and fighting craft that was steadily making Arus one of the most well-defended planets in the galaxy. And now that Allura had her powers back, she and Kiari were working with Charlotte, and Pidge, as well, to develop shields that would work against magic, would protect the castle from the likes of Lotor, and would enable their aircraft to fight off, or at least detect, magical attacks. Charlotte had learned much from the two L-22s she had lost, and was determined to enable them to cloak themselves against magic, as well. It was a formidable task, but it meant that the two of them spent more time together, so it made him happy.

Pidge made sure he made lots of noise as he approached her, sitting so serenely by the water's edge. She still startled easily. He had often watched, with a shooting pain in his heart, as perfectly innocent contact from people she knew well made her jump, if it was unexpected. Lance saw it too, Pidge knew, and he had seen her brother close his eyes in pain and anger more than once. Pidge knew about her childhood, and knew how hard it was for her to open up to people, especially to men, but he was prepared to be patient. She was worth it. She was quite brilliant, and brave, and sweet, once you got past her defenses a little bit. Her white bridesmaid's dress, trimmed with green leaves, made her look like an angel, to him, and he felt his heart swell in a way that it never had before.

"Are you ready, for today?" he asked her, sitting down in the grass a few feet from her. He would give her a few minutes to become comfortable with his presence before moving closer. He never, ever wanted to startle her the way other people did, if he could help it. The day their hands had touched while working over a particularly difficult design problem with the new fighter, the L-23, and she _hadn't_ jumped, had made him want to scream and shout with joy. She smiled when she saw it was him.

"I'm ready, but will my brother be?" she asked, a smile on her lips. "Being best man will be bad enough, but to be made Knight Protector at the same time? I'm surprised he hasn't run from the planet, screaming in terror."

Pidge just shook his head. "It's amazing to me, too."

Her face darkened. "He fought so hard against it when we were children, Pidge. He was Sir Arthur McClain's only son and heir, and that was a title he ran from. But this, this is different." She shook her head again, at a loss for words. Pidge hated to see her face darken so suddenly. Lance had told him it was a good thing, though, that she trusted him enough to open up to him, even a little. So Pidge just smiled at her, admiring the way her straight shiny hair turned even redder in the sunlight.

After a while, Pidge moved a little closer to her. "This planet has changed us all, Charlotte. Mostly for the better, though, I think." When she smiled at him, his heart felt lighter, and he wanted to distract her, to keep the smile on her face. It was easy, still, for her to slip into somber moods. "Hey, do you know how to skip rocks across the water?"

She laughed. "I grew up by a lake! Are you kidding? I bet I can throw rocks miles better than you can."

He grinned back at her. "Oh, a wager, hmm? I'll have to think of some good stakes…how about… the loser has to run the next L-23 firing test all by herself?" But she was already up and scouting the shore for flat stones, piling them by the water's edge, and he laughingly joined her.

"You mean, all by _himself_," she teased, plopping down on the grass. They sat and threw, watching their rocks skim lightly across the surface of the water, and he noticed that she didn't flinch away when their hands met as they reached for new rocks from the pile.

VVVVV

She found him in his quarters, strumming an instrument and humming along to music that poured through his headphones. Kiari stood in the doorway, watching Lance move his fingers across the strings of his guitar, headphones on, unidentifiable music leaking through them, while he pretended to be oblivious to her presence. That he was musical surprised her a little, but not much; Kiari had come to expect the unexpected from the complex, walking contradiction of a human being sitting on the bed in front of her. She stood there while Lance continued to pretend he didn't know she was there. He was not fooling her, however.

Lance was quite good, actually, his fingers moving through a series of complex chords that matched the music leaking through his headphones, and a low humming, perfectly in tune, accompanied the song. She had been spending a lot more time with him. She knew that a part of him would always belong to the Princess of Arus, soon to be Queen, and her almost-husband, Keith, but she also knew that his heart wasn't built like Keith's or Allura's, that his huge fiery heart had room in it for her, too, and besides, she was familiar, even comfortable, with the idea of shared affections.

He changed his song as she stood in the doorway, sensing her presence behind him. It was one she liked, from Earth, although she couldn't have told him the name of it. It was one of her favorite games that the two of them played, that he would play her music and she would decide what she liked and what she didn't. Together, they were building a collection of music that they both loved, and she had spent a few evenings with him, having what he called "date nights," where they sat cross-legged on the floor and ate snacks and played music and talked long into the night. She smiled. They did not always stop at talking.

"Are you ready for today?" she asked him, the green leaves that trimmed her white dress making her eyes stand out against her golden skin. "There's still time to make it off the planet, you know. I'll knock out the guards, and you can steal a ship, maybe one of those pretty new stealth fighters…"

He turned to her, shaking his head. His eyes were full of all kinds of tangled up emotions, as she had known they would be, but she was relieved to see that grief was not one of them, and neither was regret. "No, no running. Not today. But I might like you to beat on Allura later, for making me go through with this ridiculousness." He looked down at himself, decked out in the new military uniform of the Royal Guard of Arus, which was bad enough, but he also sported a red sash, numerous medals, and a sword at his hip. He was going to be knighted, right after the ceremony, and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. The Queen's Knight Protector. _Oh, hell, _he thought. _I escaped it once before, this Knight business, but it's too much to hope for a second reprieve…_ But he didn't really want a reprieve. He would be glad to stand up there, beside his two best friends in the world, and to take on the role they had given him, the role of protector, and he knew that, in their way, they would always love one another, that there were many kinds of love, and that hadn't changed, it never would…

He looked at the beautiful, mercurial woman in front of him, and took a small second to count his blessings once again. He gave her his best crooked smile. "Come here," he said, drawing her into his arms, and she shut the door behind her and gladly went.

VVVVV

Lance stood surrounded by the people who had become his friends, his family, his very lifeblood, and felt waves of emotions he didn't entirely recognize crash through him. That was ok with him. He didn't want to recognize them, not entirely. He preferred not to analyze his feelings too much lately. They were twisting and turning on him every which way, and he didn't want them to take over, as they had so often in his past. Arus was as changed a place as his heart was, and he liked it that way. Even with all the things left to do, all the problems still to solve, like discovering Sven's whereabouts, which they had been unable to do so far, but had never stopped trying, and discovering the whereabouts and activities of the witch Morgana, and fighting Planet Doom until it was finally no longer a threat, there was still plenty to be grateful for. He smiled as he realized that the majority of his feelings were good ones, if a little complicated.

Love. That was the biggest one, and the one he held closest to his heart. Since coming to Arus, he had learned so many different kinds of love. He would always love Keith and Allura. They would always have that shining, silver cord between them, but it no longer chafed, merely bound them together. He had found a brother in Keith, and a part of him would always love Allura, and all of them knew that, but he also knew his heart was built differently than theirs was. He had room inside his heart, his fiery heart, for many kinds of love. He smiled, fingering the small black box inside the pocket of his ridiculous outfit, the outfit he was going to wear while they made a knight of him… a Knight Protector, no less. But he grinned anyway. He had learned to stop fighting fate. He smiled at Kiari, standing across from him in her white dress with leaves that matched her eyes, and he felt his heart constrict. The box was for her. He had questioned her about the Fire tribe's marriage customs as casually as possible. Rings weren't a part of them, but he was going to give her one anyway. It felt right to him, to blend customs. He had foregone the traditional diamond in favor of a deep green emerald, one that matched her dancing green eyes, and as he fingered it nervously, he wondered about the timing.

He had thought out different scenarios, some as wild as standing on a table top after the wedding and announcing their love to the world in a song, or as far-fetched as kidnapping her in Red Lion and whisking her away to some far away planet until she said yes five hundred times and begged him to take her home. And then he would. Maybe. But he decided, as he did with so many things, to simply play it by ear, to trust that the perfect moment would present itself, just as he was trusting that she would say yes. He was pretty sure she would… he had been asking her about her tribe's marriage customs, and although he had tried to be subtle, it really wasn't his specialty, and although they had all learned to shield themselves against unintended mind-to-mind contact, he wondered sometimes if she didn't have some way around his shields… But he grinned wickedly. Her culture's marriage customs were strange to him. He might even have to fight a duel for her, or something, with her father, or, in her case, Saran, her surrogate father, and pay some kind of tribute, like he was buying her or something. He wondered how many horses she was worth. He wasn't sure, he hadn't paid attention to that part… but he _was_ allowed to take more than one wife. That part, he remembered. He grinned at her wickedly, and she stared openly back, and he did hear her voice in his mind, then, direct and sharp, as she told him,_ Lance McClain, you had better behave yourself at this wedding, or…you will be a very sorry man tonight_…and her final thoughts were punctuated with a wicked smile of her own.

_Is that a threat, or a promise?_ he thought back at her. She winked.

VVVVV

Keith had never been more nervous in his entire life, but he held himself perfectly still. No one who did not know him exceptionally well would have guessed that he was literally quaking in his boots. As he looked out over the visiting dignitaries, the representatives of the various Elemental Tribes, some Galaxy Garrison officials, and various other friends, family, and allies, he felt his throat tighten. He thought back to that day, almost two years ago, when he had arrived at the old castle, bleeding, parched, and exhausted, and met the woman who was about to become his wife. _I should have known I was in trouble when I passed out almost the second she touched me_, he thought, fighting back a chuckle.

He stood waiting at the center of a dais in the new open-air temple that honored the twelve deities of Arus, which stood in the center of the new capital city of Elison. There was much to be done, still, in the rapidly rising city, but they had already made impressive progress, thanks to regular shipments of building materials and equipment, courtesy of McClain Aeronautics and Industrials, but mostly to the citizens of Arus, who, now that they no longer had to cower and hide and live every moment in fear of Zarkon's attacks, had turned to reconstruction with a joyous zeal. Planet Doom hadn't given up on them yet, not entirely, but it was to the point that their attacks were becoming almost a standing joke amongst them, the last desperate attempts of a fading Empire to hang on to its dying ways. Soon, as their army grew in size and strength, they would lead an offensive strike against Doom, to free the slaves who still labored there. He wasn't sure if the giant robot defender would be along for that one. Voltron was there to defend the planet and its people, and they had built an impressive military, which only swelled in ranks as the citizens of Arus resumed their normal lives.

He was a lucky man, he reminded himself, surrounded by his teammates, who had become his friends and family. Lance, especially, his best and friend and brother, who was less able to hide his nervousness and fidgeting as he stood beside Keith, looking highly uncomfortable in his formal attire. Keith wondered how much of it had to do with his friend's hangover. Lance had done his dead level best to give him an Earth-style bachelor party, and Keith had played gamely along, matching his friend shot for shot, long after the other two members of the Voltron Force had fallen over snoring. "You are _such_ an annoying drunk, Keith," Lance had sworn at him, slurring his words more than slightly. "You must be _really_ annoying sober."

"It's not my fault I'm a well-behaved drunk," Keith said, with mock-outrage, but truth to tell, he _had_ been pretty far gone, he just hid it better than his friend.

"Ok, whatever," Lance slurred back, disgusted. "You are going to do one thing to me before you get married." He stopped, thinking back over his words. "No, belay that order. You are going to do one thing _for_ me before you get married. We, my friend," Lance stood up unsteadily then, throwing an arm heavily around Keith's shoulder. "_We_ are going to pull a prank."

Keith had protested, only to be shushed by his friend. "Just a small one," Lance had promised. "Just a teeny, tiny, weensie, teensy small one. _Pleeese?"_

And that was how he had found himself supporting his friend as the two of them climbed the statue of King Alfor, recently erected overlooking the garden that had once been Allura's mother's, drawing a large, curling moustache on the deceased ruler's face.

"There," Lance had said, highly satisfied with himself. "Take that, you stuffy old stone monument of a father of the most troublesome woman in the whole damn _galaxy_," he said, falling heavily into Keith, who had to half-carry, half-drag him back to his quarters.

He had come back very, very early this morning, intending to clean up the evidence of the crime, but to his surprise and distinct discomfort, there was no sign whatsoever of their drunken adventure, and the stone statue of the deceased King was wearing a broad smile instead of the solemn regal look he had sported just the day before… Nervous and a little spooked, Keith had gathered some flowers and taken them to Allura, glad that there was none of the "can't see me on my wedding day" nonsense on Arus.

He slid under the covers with her, watching her for a moment before touching a lock of her golden hair with his fingers. She was so beautiful. She was his.

He tickled her nose lightly with the tip of a lily petal, and was rewarded with the clearest, prettiest, brightest blue-eyed smile in the universe. "Flowers," she mumbled sleepily, pressing herself up against him, wrapping her arms around his neck for a deep, long good morning kiss. He put the flowers down and forgot about them for a while.

Later, he traced her petal-soft cheek with the tip of one finger, his nose buried in her flower-scented hair. "I got these from your mother's garden this morning, sweetheart," he told her.

"Mmmm," she mumbled back, her hands still around his neck, her face nestled against his chest. "Thanks, love."

"Your father's statue was smiling at me," he said, leaving out the part about the drunken mustache adventure with Lance the night before. "He wasn't smiling, was he, when you put that statue in?"

"No," she said, nuzzling his neck. "I didn't like that about it. I'm glad to hear he's smiling. It means he approves, Keith." He was glad that she couldn't read his thoughts just then, because he wondered how she would feel if she knew it had taken him and Lance and some drunk graffiti to make the old man smile…

After returning from the Water tribes, they had all learned to shield their thoughts from one another, so that thoughts and emotions didn't leak out between the three of them unintentionally anymore. They could still communicate, of course, and that had saved their hides more than once in battles and during raids on Planet Doom, but they no longer broadcast their thoughts and their emotions between themselves as they had when they first discovered the ability. From the dais, Keith watched Lance fidget some more. _Can't blame him_, he thought sympathetically. _If Allura has to become Queen, and I'm becoming_…his throat constricted as he thought the word, _King, then Lance has to suffer too…_ He smiled at the long road it had taken them all to be here today, and the many twists they had gone through together. _My best friend and brother,_ he thought, knowing there would always be a bond between the three of them, that they would always belong to each other, and that love came in many shapes and forms.

The music swelled as the newly formed Royal Orchestra played the opening bars of the House of Altaire's traditional wedding march. His heart swelled right along with the music, because suddenly, _she _was there, holding on to Koran's arm, and he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his entire life, and she was coming towards him, and she was his.

VVVVV

_Steady, Allura_, she told herself, gripping her surrogate father's arm for dear life. He had tears in his eyes as he led her down the aisle, and she was sure he was going to have bruises from her death grip. She looked around at the crowd surrounding them, marveling once again at the change that had been wrought on her planet since the rag-tag Galaxy Garrison soldiers had shown up in the ruins of the old castle. _One of them even passed out right at my feet_, she remembered with a wide smile. She was never, ever going to let him live that down.

He was waiting for her on the dais, and she could tell he was nervous, although very few others could. She was nervous too, but at least she had a veil and a great big dress to help hide that fact. Her bridesmaids smiled at her, standing opposite the Voltron force, each of them beautiful in their white dresses trimmed with green leaves. Charlotte and Pidge looked at each other across the dais, and Allura was glad again for the veil that hid her knowing grin. Hunk's sister Suki was exotically beautiful, smiling prettily at her brother across from her, and then smiling at her family, Hunk's _entire_ family, that took up much of the front row. Hunk had been so happy to see them all, and his mother and Nanny had taken an instant liking to one another as the Japanese woman had thrown herself into helping Allura's surrogate mother with the wedding preparations. Allura was glad for Hunk's mother's presence now, as Nanny leaned against her in the front row, already crying, while her new friend patted her on the back.

And then there was Kiari, her fiery tempered, laughing, fierce best friend and ally, and she was suddenly ferociously glad for her friend with the dancing green eyes and quick temper and brave heart, because she had opened her heart to the other man in her life, the one who would always be there, just as Keith was, but in a different way, perhaps, than he once had been. Lance and Kiari made a good match, and as she looked at the two men waiting for her on the dais, her heart almost stopped beating, it was so full of joy. Keith, about to be her husband, and Lance, about to be her official best friend and champion. _Whether he wants to be Knight Protector or not_, she thought, as she watched him fidget and scowl.

And suddenly, Keith was there in front of her, taking her hand from Koran's, and as she looked into his dark brown eyes, she wondered why she had ever been nervous. She saw forever in his eyes, and she knew that they belonged to each other, body, heart and soul, and that they always had and they always would, come what may. She barely heard the vows as she repeated them, and, as she watched him make his own, watched him promise to love, honor, and cherish her, she knew he was only repeating the same vows, in a different form, that he had made to her on the very first day they met; _My life in your service_, she heard, underneath his vows, and knew she had just made the same pledge to him, no matter what the actual vows were, and they were both crying as the minister pronounced them man and wife, and as she felt his arms around her, she had never felt safer, had never been safer, as she stood within the circle of his arms, beneath a clear blue sky on a safe, green Arus, surrounded by the ones they loved and who loved them back.

The End


End file.
